Haunted By Love
by PhoenixTears55
Summary: Clark Kent left behind a promise to Lana Lang years ago to become Superman. Ten years later, he's still haunted by her memory. What happens when they meet again? What lengths will Clark go to win her heart again? Clana. Ch 14 and Epilogue Complete 2.22.06
1. First Encounter

Background: Lana knows Clark's secret and the two dated during their senior year of high school. Lois never showed up in Smallville; Clark met her at the DP in Metropolis.

Author's Note: If you have any questions about the background, setting, etc., feel free to PM me or send me an email. Most likely, your questions will be answered in the reading.

Inspiration: This fic was based **loosely** on a book/movie, but I won't give it away because it'll spoil my plot.

* * *

She was back. He had spent the past ten years trying to cleanse the remaining memories of her and in one split second, they all came rushing back to him. 

The night had started out as any other normal night. Superman had taken to the skies once the robbery off of Connoisseur Avenue had been cleared, leaving law enforcement to the perpetrators. It sickened him to think of what the world had come down to. Love and family had been replaced by money and the material things. But then again, money _does_ make the world go 'round.

Clark Kent--simply a mask for Superman, or the other way around? Even he had trouble determining who was made for whom sometimes.

But at the moment, he was Superman, soaring through the clouds, his senses alert and ready to protect the citizens of Metropolis from injustice. He had taken on the identity of 'Superman' nearly five years ago. It was just four years ago that he had been stripped of the title, Caped Vigilante, and recognized for his attempts to deliver justice to Metropolis.

Superman paused, glancing at the tower clock from across the city. It read twelve twenty-two. Perhaps it was time for him to retire for the night and return to his life as Clark Kent, rising star reporter for the _Daily Planet_. That life, of course, entailed coming home every night to an empty apartment.

On a sidebar, there had been Lois Lane, his assigned partner for the Daily Planet. The relationship had only lasted for two months before he had called it quits. While he enjoyed her company and her ability to take his mind off of the troubling aspects of his life, his heart just hadn't been into it. Lois had commented numerous times before on dates or in the office that it seemed like he was still harboring a broken heart from a previous relationship. "You can't expect someone to give you their heart when you can't even give them yours," Lois had said. That was Lois for you--blunt, sarcastic, but honest. Of course, she had been right.

He was nursing a broken heart--a heart shattered by his own cowardice and mistake. It was his own fault that he, nearing twenty-eight, was without any companionship or anything remotely close to love. Twenty-seven, still plenty of time to find someone, but he knew better. He doubted that he would find anyone that could even compete with her.

After ten years, he still couldn't bring himself to say her name. It was painful enough to be reminded of her everywhere he went...the wind billowing dark locks of hair...the twinkle of bells which sounded like her laughter...the various art museums he visited just to torture himself and to be reminded of the places he promised he would bring her. He never kept that promise, though. In fact, he never kept any of them, even _the_ promise.

Superman slowed and glimpsed the clock tower again. He would have to be getting up in a few hours time to get the scoop on yet another story. Sometimes, he wondered if getting into journalism had been a mistake. His job had a lot of demands and it constantly put him on the spotlight when he and Lois stumbled upon a big story. But there was one aspect of his job that pleased him enough to keep doing it--the search for the truth. With so many lies and secrecy in his life, he was glad that some honesty still retained.

He sighed and rubbed his face. It was definitely time for him to retire for the night. Superman slowly descended to the ground, enjoying the warm breeze playing on his face.

_"C'mon, Clark! It'll be fun!" her voice rang out in the warm night. _

_He shook his head firmly. "You know that I'm afraid of heights."_

_She shrugged, not concerned at all at his revelation. "You're up here right now with me and you seem fine."_

_"That's because you're here." _

_"So, if I jump with you that means you'll be okay, too?"_

_He watched as she approached the ledge. "Be careful..."_

_Instead of heeding his warning, she took a step even closer to the edge. "It's not that far down...and besides, there's the lake under us. It'll be like diving."_

_"I don't think..." he began, but trailing off as she started to shed her shoes and clothes._

_"I'll jump first and you can come in after me, okay?" _

_"It's not safe...wait!" he cried._

_Without warning, she dove in, making a little splash. Acting purely on instinct, he jumped in after her, not bothering to shed his shoes or clothes._

_After surfacing, he called her name. He turned when he heard giggling._

_"I'm over here, Clark." Her hair was wet and he could imagine how she must look underneath the water._

_"You scared me!" he gasped, swimming over to where she was treading water. "Are you alright?"_

_"Of course I am, Clark. What do you take me for, a damsel in distress?" she said, half joking._

_"I'm sorry...I just...I don't know what I would do without you," he said quietly, cupping her wet face in his hand._

_"I'm not going anywhere, Clark," she assured him, smiling._

_"Neither am I."_

Superman stopped abruptly, his descent cut short by yet another flashback. Before, it had been of the two of them sitting by the fire on a cold winter's night, feeding each other secrets. This time, it was the two of them out swimming in the warm summer night. It was the same summer that he had explicitly left Smallville in order to fulfill his destiny as the last son of Krypton.

His attempts to dwell on that particular memory and past were interrupted by a sharp cry for help. Immediately, he shot off in the direction of the voice, pushing the memory to the back of his mind for another time.

"C'mon..." he muttered, scanning the streets below him for the source of the cry. Waiting for another hint at where the person could be, he hovered in the sky, his ears perked and ready to receive more cries.

"Help!"

Superman took off to the right, zigzagging through a wealthier part of a neighborhood and finally to the shady end where an alley stood. His feet touching the ground, he super sped to the narrow alleyway where he was met by the sight of a mugger manhandling a woman for her purse.

Shooting forward, he grabbed the mugger by the lapels of his collar and threw him against the brick wall with enough force to knock him out, but not injure him. Bending down, he picked up a black leather purse and silently handed it to the woman.

"Thank you."

Something familiar in her voice made his throat tighten for some odd reason. Shaking it off as an effect of his flashback earlier, he nodded and took a step back, ready to take off into the night sky.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" the woman asked suddenly, making him pause in his actions.

He glanced around, his eyes finally lying on the unconscious mugger over by the far wall. "Oh, right. Thanks." What was wrong with him? He had rescued dozens of women before and none had even come close to fluster him.

The light from the street light suddenly came on. He had rescued others from this part of the neighborhood enough times to know that that particular street light liked to flicker on and off. As he moved past her, he glimpsed her face from the faint light provided by the street light.

He blinked, thoroughly convinced that he was hallucinating. It couldn't be her, could it? After all these years...?

And yet, he felt something inside of him stir. Something that he had been trying to oppress for the past five years came rushing back to him. And it was that something that made him gasp and take a step back.

The image that had haunted him for years was staring right back at him. Her gaze, unnerving and somewhat cold told him everything that he needed to know about how she felt about bumping into him again after all these years. No, this wasn't a friendly reunion. Just like their parting, this was bittersweet.

"Lana?" he gasped, struggling to make sense of the situation. Forget that there was a mugger lying in the corner who could revive at any moment's notice or that he was basically giving away his identity to her--no, there was something bigger going on tonight. For heaven's sake, this was Lana Lang, the love of his life, the catalyst for his flashbacks and the sole reason for his misery and loneliness for the past ten years!

"I'm surprised that you even remember me," Lana said in a low, even voice.

"Of course I remember you," Clark wanted to say, but he held his tongue. "What are you doing here? I mean...so late..."

"Nothing, Clark. Nothing." She made an attempt to move past him, but he immediately blocked her way.

"Lana...I'm..."

"You're what, Clark? Sorry?" she said, her voice betraying her emotions. "I think that it's a little too late for sorrys, don't you?"

The resentment in her voice didn't surprise him. She had every right to be upset at him.

"Lana..."

"Don't," she said firmly, shaking her head and stepping past him. "I've changed and so have you. Let's just leave it at that."

"Wait!" Clark called helplessly. He couldn't let her walk out of his life...he couldn't lose her again, not without her understanding what he had been through for the past ten years.

Lana spun around, her green eyes ablaze with anger. "For what?"

"I just..." After all the times that he had pictured this moment...practiced the words that he would say to her in order to make her understand...he was wordless.

From the corner of the alley, there was a groan, but both of them ignored it.

Finally, Lana tore her gaze away from Clark, starting a brisk walk back to the condominiums.

Just as he was thinking up of something to tell her...to get her to stay with him another moment, she paused and turned around.

"I'm getting married."

Clark, unsure if he heard correctly, repeated, "Married?"

"That's right. I'm engaged." As if driving the nail in deeper, she lifted her left hand and there, sitting on her ring finger, was a sizable diamond, sparkling at him, as if taunting him.

Stunned, Clark said the only thing that came to mind, "Congratulations."

He watched her walk away, her heels clicking in the silence of the night. Once her solitary figure faded into the night, Superman turned back to the mugger who had revived and had obviously seen Lana flash her ring at him.

As if sensing the hero's glare, the man looked up and said, "Ouch. That's gotta hurt."

Superman narrowed his eyes. "Shut up."

* * *

Lana inserted her key into the lock and turned. She pushed open the heavy wooden door slowly, trying not to make any noise that would arouse Jason from his office. Quietly, she slipped in, setting her purse on the side table to the right of the door. She then proceeded to close to the door, cursing mentally at the loud creak coming from the hinges of the door. She really needed to get that fixed. 

Lana hastily ran a hand through her long raven hair, attempting to straighten out the tangles from her struggle with the mugger and her encounter with..._him_.

It had been ten years since she had last seen him and in just one moment, those ten years of pretending not to care...pretending that he didn't exist to her...were turned upside down. It was amazing what just one glance at him did to her.

After all these years...he still hadn't changed one bit. His shoulders still held the weight of the world and his eyes...those piercing blue eyes that could see straight through her soul still spoke of misery and loneliness. His face had matured over the past decade...no more was it the face of that young, scared boy who had left her to fulfill his destiny to his biological father and to the world. The masculine, chiseled features on his face were more prominent and told a story of his hardship of a decade. Lana closed her eyes, realizing that he was still as handsome as the day he left.

Slowly, she felt something inside of her stir...feelings of the past. Her eyes snapped open, shaking her head. No, she wouldn't let herself go there again. Every time she did, she either wound up hurt or in grave danger. Lana was certain that her heart wouldn't survive another break up with Clark Kent.

"Lana, is that you?"

Lana jumped slightly, her thoughts of Clark interrupted by the voice of her fiancé coming from his office. "I'm in here," she called back, steeling herself for his usual questionnaire.

Lana forced a smile as Jason emerged from his office, stepping towards her.

"I was worried about you...running out like that," Jason said, hands in pockets.

Lana closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she found herself leveled with his face. She took an involuntary step backwards, remembering the reason she was out wandering the streets in the first place.

"I'm fine, Jason." Lana avoided his gaze, choosing to stare at the vase of plastic flowers over by the coffee table. She had wanted real ones to be replaced by fresh ones at the beginning of every week, but Jason had insisted on getting silk ones instead. "They'll last a lot longer and you won't even need to water them," he had told her.

"Look, Lana...I'm sorry. If you want to wear that pink dress to the gala, then go ahead."

Lana glanced up, sighing. "You don't get it, do you? It was never about the dress."

Jason continued to look puzzled. "Then what is it about?"

Lana crossed her arms, adamantly staring at the flowers as if trying to set them on fire. "It's about you...and your desire to always please your mother. I can't believe that you want me to wear a black dress just because you know that your mother hates pink!"

"I was only trying to make things better between you two..."

Lana shook her head. "Jason, things between your mother and me will never get better...she hates me."

"No, she doesn't," Jason protested, placing a hand on her arm. "She just doesn't see how special you are..."

Lana bit her lip, sighing again. "Forget it...I gave up trying to win your mother's affection a long time ago." She took a step forward, wanting to retire to her room for the night.

"Hey, Lana..." Jason took a hold of her hand, pulling her back. "I really am sorry."

"I know you are, Jason," Lana whispered, too emotionally drained to argue anymore. Right now, she just wanted to get back to the security of her room and mull the events of the night over.

"I love you," he offered, bending down to kiss her.

At the last minute, Lana turned her head so that his lips caught her cheek instead of her mouth.

"I'm really tired, Jason. It's past midnight...I'm going to bed." Lana wiggled out of his embrace and started for her room.

Back in her room, Lana sat on her bed, wondering why she had even agreed to marry him. Jason, being a lawyer, was stubborn as a mule and she and he often locked horns. Usually, it was over his mother and her attempts to break them up. Jason had always been good at apologizing for his mother's behavior, but when it came down to it, he just couldn't simply choose between the two women.

Lana yawned, not really wanting to venture into that area again. Instead, she lay back against the pillows, feeling the day's events taking a toll on her.

Almost unconsciously, she felt her thoughts drifting back to Clark again. As much as she hated to admit it, she missed him--no, she corrected herself, she missed what they had back in high school. After all, ten years was a lot of time...a lot of time to change and to grow. If they had kept in contact during those ten years, Lana was almost certain, that they would be heading to the altar right about now, but they hadn't.

A part of her still resented Clark for leaving her behind. For the most part, Lana understood why he had to go, but that didn't stop her from begging him to let her go with him. Of course, he had pulled the protective boyfriend card on her and lectured her on how dangerous it would be and how she would feel like a piece of luggage following him around the globe. But she hadn't cared.

Instead, Lana was forced to stay in Smallville to wait for him to come back...waiting for him to act on his last promise to her before he had left. He had never kept that promise.

To this day, Lana was still bitter about that promise. Hence the reason for her callous attitude toward him tonight.

Underneath the warmth from the covers, Lana recalled the way that she had informed him of her engagement and how she had held up her ring for him to see. The poor guy probably didn't know what had hit him, Lana realized sadly, wishing that she could take it all back. As much as she wanted him to feel the pain that she had felt after he had left, she knew that she couldn't do that to him. She was still in love with his memory and somehow, her subconscious had convinced her that the present Clark was the same person as the boy that she had fallen in love with back in high school.

Lana yawned, feeling sleep calling to her. Deciding that she would continue with her thoughts tomorrow, she allowed herself to drift off to dreamland.

Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Clark was still wide awake, tossing and turning in his bed. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't get the image of Lana flashing her engagement ring at him out of his head.

"She's getting married," Clark said aloud, not believing his words. He had spent the past decade daydreaming about showing up on her doorstep one day. He'd always imagined her single and still waiting for him to return to her. Of course, he had been naïve--thinking that she would just take him back with open arms, without any explanation of some sort. No, he hadn't expected her to wait for him...he had just wished it.

"It's too late," Clark whispered. All of his misery and lonely nights spent came down to this. She was back, and yet she wasn't. She was gone.

_Psst...hit the purple button down at the bottom to leave a review..._


	2. Morning Grogginess

Thanks for reading.

* * *

The next morning, Clark was awoken by the blaring of his phone instead of his alarm. Reaching his hand out, he blindly searched for his phone, managing to knock his Daily Planet press badge and some papers off of the night stand. Without opening his eyes, he answered, "Hello?"

"Clark? Is that you?" the voice on the other line crackled.

Clark groaned, wanting to kill Pete Ross, his childhood best friend for awakening him from his slumber. He had tossed and turned in a state similar to insomnia until he had drifted off into an unpleasant sleep haunting by the memories of her. It was bad enough that he had nearly driven himself to insanity by replaying her sudden, if temporary return into his life.

Pete was still rambling on the other line, oblivious to his best friend's state of morning grogginess. "I've been trying to reach you since nine..."

"Nine!" Clark shot up in bed, reaching up to pull his crumpled white tee off his upper body. "What time is it?"

"A little past ten," Pete replied, unconcerned. "Hey, listen--"

"What! No, no!" Clark attempted to get out of the tangle of bed sheets, clad in only boxers now. He threw his shirt on the floor and rushed to the closet, beginning to sort through heaps of dirty laundry for his Superman costume.

"Is everything alright over there, man?" Pete asked, picking up on his friend's distress.

"Yes! I mean, no!" Clark shouted into the mouthpiece, attempted to hop into his blue tights. "I'm late!"

"For work?"

"Perry's going to kill me!" he moaned, now donning his work suit.

"You must be the fastest guy on the planet and yet you're always late. How is that possible?"

"Pete, is there any particular reason that you called me?" Clark asked, annoyed.

"Oh, yeah. I'm in the city right now...do you think that you could meet me for lunch? It's kinda important."

"Sure, why not? I mean, not only am I late for work, but I'm taking my lunch break earlier today to meet with you. Perry's going to love that," he said sarcastically, proceeding to squirt tooth paste onto the bristles of his tooth brush.

"Great! I'll see you in two hours!" Pete replied enthusiastically.

"Pete, I was being─" but he was cut off by the dial tone. He cursed and began to pick up the pace, going into super speed mode.

A minute later, he was out the door, briefcase in hand. He was tempted to fly into work today, but knew that the citizens of Metropolis would find it weird if they saw Superman carrying a briefcase in the sky. Instead, he opted to run.

He took off down the street, weaving past the congestion of the city...cars...bicycles...kids...wait, kids? Clark slowed to a stop by Metro Park, puzzled by a little girl and a boy that appeared to be her older brother crowded around a tree, their heads held up high.

He sighed and glanced around the park. It was pretty much deserted except for an elderly couple feeding pigeons over by the pond. Quickly, he placed his briefcase underneath a bench and changed into Superman.

"What seems to be the problem?" Superman asked as he approached the girl and boy.

"Superman!" the boy yelled with wide eyes. "Karen, look, it's Superman!"

Clark smiled. It was always nice when young children looked at Superman with adoration in their eyes. Clark knew that Superman was far from perfect, but he was still glad to serve as a role model for them.

"My kitty's stuck in the tree," the young girl, Karen, replied tearfully. With her finger, she pointed up at the top of the magnolia tree that was in the process of blossoming.

Mentally shrugging, Superman ascended in the air, knowing that rescuing animals from tree tops was mediocre compared to his other rescues. But he was happy to lend a helping hand anyway.

After coaxing the kitten down, he gently placed it in the outreached hands of the girl.

"Thank you, Superman!" the girl cried gleefully, happy to have her pet back. Her brother was still staring at him, almost as if star struck.

Superman smiled and after retrieving his briefcase from underneath the bench, took off in the direction of the Daily Planet building.

"Where have you been, Smallville?" Lois Lane asked the moment he emerged from the janitor's closet, having removed his Superman costume.

Clark mumbled something incoherently, starting for his desk. Already, there was a pile of mail and files waiting for him to sort through.

"Please don't tell me you've been hiding in the janitor's closet for the past three hours," Lois said, still hounding him as he took a seat at his desk.

"Do I really need to answer that, Lois?" Clark asked. It was only eleven in the morning and already, his day was beginning to go downhill. He hadn't even awoken in high spirits that morning either. "Besides, what were you doing outside of the janitor's closet?"

"I was looking for the janitor...being the klutz that I am, I spilled my coffee this morning," Lois explained, not even bothering to pull out a chair to sit. Instead, she opted to sit on the small of Clark's desk that wasn't occupied by paperwork and notes.

"Right..." Clark muttered, sorting through his mail. Most of them were letters from fans of Superman, wanting set up an appointment to meet him. Since he usually covered the interviews with Superman, people always sent him letters requesting to meet the Man of Steel himself. Of course, Clark had never replied to any of them.

"So, are you going to tell me where you've been or am I just going to have to change the subject?"

"Change the subject..." Clark mumbled, barely coherent. He leaned back against his chair and closed his eyes, bringing his hands up to rub them behind his glasses. He hadn't even had a chance to grab a cup of coffee over by Metro Café this morning and God only knew that he needed that cup of caffeine after his fruitless attempts to fall asleep last night. His unexpected run-in with Lana last night was still weighing heavily on his mind and it was driving him nuts that she was engaged. Not that he had the right to drive himself nuts over that matter. They were, after all, over. Done. Kaput. That chapter of their lives had been closed nearly ten years ago and Clark knew that he should really try to move on. She obviously had.

But then there was that little voice in the back of his mind nagging him to take into consideration if she really loved her fiancé. What if she just agreed to marry him--her fiancé, that is--because she was simply trying to move on? To prove to herself that she could get over him, Clark Kent, the guy who broke her heart and shattered her confidence nearly ten years ago?

Oh, who was he kidding? It was just all wishful thinking on his part and Clark knew it. He knew--or once knew--Lana well enough to know that she would never take anything serious as marriage with a grain of salt. She was just simply that type of person. She was too much of a romantic to just throw caution into the wind and say 'yes' to the next random guy that proposed to her. No, her saying 'yes' to this guy--whoever he may be--meant something. Something that could be even bigger than what he and Lana had back in high school.

"Earth to Clark? Anyone there?"

Clark blinked, his eyes focusing on the motion of Lois' hand in front of his face. "Huh?"

"You haven't heard a word of what I just told you, have you?" Lois sent him an accusatory glare.

"Not a word." He shuffled some papers on his desk, paper clipping them together.

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Okay, what gives?"

"What do you mean?" he replied slowly, as if she had spoken in Latin to him.

"This is what I mean." Lois jumped off the desk, pulling up her chair from the cubicle over and plopping down. "I mean, you come to work three hours late. You're not even attempting to focus on this interview we have to get done by today and judging from the bags under your eyes; you look as if you saw a ghost last night and had a classic case of insomnia."

Clark hesitated, not sure how to respond to that. "I had a late night last night...I just need to get some caffeine in me and I'll be ready to tackle that interview with you," he assured her, really wanting her to just leave him alone to his thoughts.

But Lois, persistent as ever, pressed on. "Look, you've obviously got something on your mind. What's up, Smallville?"

He groaned, getting a little pissed off at her now. "Lois...really, I'm fine..."

"No, you're not. I've known you long enough and well enough to know that you're not."

"Look, can we just drop this?" Clark demanded, raising his voice a little.

After scrutinizing him for a few more seconds, Lois finally rose from her chair. "If you say so...but just know that if you want to talk, I'll be here."

There was genuine concern and sincerity in her voice and for once, Clark found himself appreciating her presence in his life. He hadn't made many friends since college, and even then, he always, if almost, lost contact with them. It wasn't that he was cold or wasn't friendly enough, but being Superman had a lot of demands and he had the tendency to just disappear sometimes. It was that aspect that made it hard to explain to his friends and in turn, they had moved on to more honest friends.

Speaking of friends...a realization just hit Clark. He still had to meet Pete for lunch. He shot a look at the clock on his computer.

"I gotta run, Lois," Clark said hastily, standing up from the chair.

"What? Where are you going? You just got here," Lois said pointedly.

"I know." Clark began to gather his suit jacket from the chair, but then put it down. For late April, it was warm enough to be walking out outside without the warmth of a jacket.

"What about the interview?" Lois insisted, standing as well.

"What interview?"

"The one at the Teague Estate tonight!" Lois cried impatiently. "Perry's going to kill you if you don't show. This gala is supposed to be big. Edward Teague is making an announcement tonight that concerns his law firm."

"Don't worry, Lois. I'll be there."

* * *

"Clark! Over here, man!" 

Clark spun around, looking slightly lost in the crowd of tables, waiters, and hungry customers. Finally, he spotted Pete Ross in the midst of the heavy lunch crowd. Usually, for lunch, he just had Jimmy Olsen, a scrawny eighteen year-old intern, pick up something for him from a nearby deli. Today, however, he was having an Italian style lunch complete with freshly baked bread for the appetizer. A complete turnaround from his usually Chinese take-out and pizza diet.

Clark strode over to where Pete was and took a seat opposite him. Naturally, his journalistic curiosity was getting to him and he wondered what news Pete could have to tell him.

"Hey, man. I haven't seen you since what...since last Christmas?" Pete greeted.

Clark frowned. "It can't have been that long..."

"Oh, yeah; it's been that long. Every time I stop by the farm, your mom is always hounding me about when your next visit is gonna be." Pete paused and took a bite of bread out of a basket that a waiter just set down on the table. "I think that your dad is also anxious about your next visit as well."

So, it was that bad, huh? It was usually his mother that pined for his next visit, but if his father was too, it meant that he really needed to stop by soon. "I'll stop by soon, really," Clark promised, mentally clearing his calendar for sometime in the next month.

"You better; 'cause what I gotta tell you involves you heading into Smallville sometime soon," Pete said seriously, gaining Clark's attention.

"What do you─" Clark began, but was cut off by the arrival of their waitress.

"Are we ready to order?" she asked with a courteous smile.

"Go ahead and order away, man. I've got this one covered," Pete said, giving her his order.

"I'll have whatever he's having," Clark said when the waitress turned to him expectantly.

Once she had excused herself, Clark focused his attention on Pete. "What did you mean by that?"

Pete shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable for the first time during their meeting. "Clark...I'm getting married."

He blinked, unsure if he heard right. "You're...you're getting married," he repeated, remembering his encounter with Lana last night. What was it with the world always wanting to screw him over? Not that he wasn't happy for Pete... Things just seemed to fall into perspective once your ex-girlfriend and best friend, the guy who'd swore that he'd never marry until he was at least thirty-five, both decided to jump on the same bandwagon.

"Wow...that's...that's great, Pete," Clark said, trying to sound enthusiastic, but failing miserably. All this talk of weddings and engagements was making him nostalgic.

"Thanks, man. I know that the idea of me settling down at twenty-eight sounds crazy, but I just know that she's the one...Marie, you remember her, right?"

Clark swallowed the lump forming in his throat and nodded. He vaguely remembered Pete showing her to him during his last visit to Smallville. But from what he had heard from Pete, they had been going steady for a little over two years.

"There's also something else..." Pete said, catching Clark's attention. "Marie's father is in a pretty bad shape and she wants the wedding this June...you know, before... Anyway, I was wondering...would you be my best man?"

It only took Clark a second to answer. "Of course." Although the wedding would bring back some painful memories, Pete was his best friend. They had been through thick and thin together and he wouldn't let Pete go through the happiest day of his life without him by his side.

"I'm really happy for you, Pete. You deserve to be happy," Clark said sincerely.

"Thanks, Clark."

Fifteen minutes later, their food had arrived and he and Pete were chatting like friends who hadn't seen each other in three and a half months would. It wasn't until Clark took notice of a painting hanging on the far wall that he was reminded of Lana once more.

"You okay? You got quiet there all of a sudden," Pete inquired, scrutinizing him.

He fiddled with his fork. "She's back."

"Who is?"

"Lana," Clark breathed, staring at the painting again. It was a painting of endless rows of cornfields...much like his life. No matter how hard he tried, his search for her never quite seemed to end.

_Hit the purple button!_


	3. Stroll in the Garden

Thanks for the feedback.

* * *

Lana held up a pair of pearl earrings to her ear, frowned, and then placed them back in her jewelry box. She then proceeded to close that particular box and rummage through another one. This one was held less elegant jewelry than the last and as she hunted for another pair of earrings, she took notice of the fun, flashy, fashion jewelry that she probably hadn't worn since she had started dating Jason. Once their relationship had turned serious, Jason began to buy expensive necklaces or earrings to make up for lost or canceled dates due to his long hours at the office. Lana still hadn't figured out how material things substituted for real, heart-to-heart conversations, but she rolled with it anyway. 

One particular set of diamond earrings caught her eye. Wondering why it was in this box and not the other, she pulled it out. With a sudden jolt of realization, Lana recalled that Clark had given these to her. It had been their Christmas break of their senior year when Lana had dragged him to the shopping district in Metropolis. That precise pair of earrings had caught her eye at a jewelry display at one of the department stores that they had gone into. To her surprise, Clark had presented her with the exact pair on Christmas day.

She smiled against her will at the memory. Clark hadn't cared about the price of the items that he had bought her. As long as he knew that she'd liked them, he had bought them without considering how much it would put a dent in his allowance or how much he'd save. He was just that kind of guy and Lana missed him.

No, she corrected herself. She missed that _quality_--not him. As she had told herself the night before, ten years was a long time and she was certain that she was just in love with his memory and not the present-day him. Clark could be married with kids, for goodness's sake. Maybe the night before had meant nothing to him and he'd just wanted to apologize for the way that he had treated her before and start fresh.

Well, whatever the night before had meant to him and to her, it didn't matter. She had to look forward to the future now, Lana reminded herself, hooking one of the diamond studs onto her left ear. Just as she was finishing hooking the other one on, there was knock at the door.

"Lana? Are you decent?"

It was Jason. "Yeah. Come in."

The door creaked open and there stood Jason in a semi-casual tuxedo. Instead of a bow-tie, though, Jason had opted for a tie like his father, Edward Teague.

Oddly enough, Lana wasn't all too attracted to the sight of Jason in a tux. She knew that other women that he worked with in the office would have drool hanging out the side of his mouth right about now, but Jason just didn't bring out that...that side of her. Hence the reason why she had lied about her virginity and said she wanted to wait until their wedding night to have sex with him.

"I see that you decided to go with the black dress," Jason commented, sticking his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah...no point in upsetting your mother on your big night, right?" Lana watched his face carefully for his reaction. She was slightly disappointed to find relief there.

"I know that my mother is hard to please, but she'll warm up to you soon. Once she realizes how much I love you, she'll be the one trying to please you."

Somehow, Lana doubted that, but she kept quiet. "Let's just get this over with...maybe then I won't be so stressed about the wedding and everything."

Jason nodded, watching as she stood. His eyes took in her appearance--especially the small diamond studs in her ears. "Hey, what happened to the pearl ones I gave you last week?"

Self consciously, Lana reached a hand up to play with her ear. "I'd figured that I'd wear these..."

"Oh, okay..."

Lana sighed. "But, if you want, I can wear the pearls."

Jason instantly brightened up. "Thanks, babe. I just think that my mother will like the pearls a lot better."

She was tempted to call him on his attempts to please his mother through her, but she bit her tongue. Tonight wasn't the night. Besides, she was still drained from the night before.

Lana removed the diamonds from her ears and slipped on the pearl ones instead. She frowned at her appearance in the mirror once Jason's back was turned. The image staring back at her was something she had tried to avoid becoming. A trophy wife...someone who was just there for convenience and to show off to rich friends and business partners.

She sighed again and picked up her black evening purse. When she focused her attention back on Jason, his lips were coming dangerously close to hers.

At the last second, Lana took a step back. "My lipstick, remember? Your mother wouldn't want me showing up with smudged lipstick." She smiled inwardly when she caught his dumbfounded expression. If one could play at this game, then so could two.

* * *

Superman landed gracefully in the garden of the Teague Estate. He was grateful for the lack of moonlight tonight as the shadows would help him keep his identity hidden as he changed into his rented tux that he had picked up earlier from the dry cleaners. He just hoped that no one would be curious enough as to take a peak through the garden's double doors or even worse, take a stroll through the well kept rosebushes. 

Once he was done changing, Clark inconspicuously slipped inside. His entrance gained a few curious stares, but Clark ignored them, making his way deeper through the throng of Metropolis's wealthiest. To his relief, he spotted Lois right away.

"Where have you been, Clark?" Lois demanded once she had reached him.

"Umm...long line at the dry cleaners." It wasn't his best excuse, but it was better than coming right out and admitting that he was Superman and that he had to help put out a warehouse fire.

Clark was certain that Lois didn't believe one word of his excuse, but she pressed on anyway.

"I think I found the angle on our story," Lois blurted out breathlessly. The only time she got breathless was when she stumbled upon something big.

"Angle?" Clark repeated, wondering how on earth she could have done that when Edward Teague hadn't even made his announcement yet--at least, he thought he hadn't.

Lois grabbed his arm and forcefully turned him around to face the buffet table where two iced swans were dripping into the buckets of champagne. There were a few people gathered in groups chatting near the swans, but other than that, Clark couldn't see an angle anywhere.

"Do you see them?"

"See who?"

Lois sighed and marched him closer to the table. "See him? Next to that woman in that ridiculous fur coat? That's Jason Teague."

"Son of Edward Teague?"

"Glad to see that you actually did some research, Smallville. My sources tell me that Edward Teague is planning to step down from head lawyer of Marion, Teague, and Weisman Law Firm and hand the title to his son."

Clark had learned a long time ago to never underestimate Lois' sources. "Okay...still not seeing the angle."

"You're going to get a quote from the new head of chief about his lovely arm ornament over there."

Clark's eyes followed Lois' finger to the brunette hanging on to Jason Teague's left arm. Her back was turned to him, but even from this distance, Clark felt something familiar about her.

"You want me to get a quote...about Teague's love life?"

"That's right. I'm going to go find Jimmy to get a photo of them." Lois gave him a shove in the back to tell him to get going.

Clark waited until she was gone before approaching them cautiously.

Both Jason and his 'arm ornament,' as Lois had affectionately referred to her as, turned around once Clark had cleared his throat. Before Clark could react, the wine glass that she was holding fell to the floor with a large crash.

_"Clark?"_

"Lana?"

This had to be some sick joke that the universe was playing on him, right? He fought the urge to reach up and wipe his glasses clean.

"You two know each other?" Jason asked, mildly amused. Obviously, he hadn't caught on to the bigger picture.

"Lana, where are your manners? Aren't you going to introduce us to your friend?" the woman in the fur coat inquired, her British accent prominent.

Lana glanced at him, her exotic eyes wide with curiosity. "Umm...Mrs. Teague, Jason, this is Clark Kent...an old classmate."

Clark winced when she got to the 'old classmate' part. Well, at least she hadn't pretended that she had mistaken him for someone else.

But Lana wasn't done with the introductions. "Clark, this is Jason...my fiance...and his mother, Genevieve Teague."

Clark felt as if his heart had deflated. So, this was who she'd agreed to marry...Jason Teague, heir of Marion, Teague, and Weisman Law Firm and a hefty trust fund. Rumors had been flying around in _The Inquisitor_ that Genevieve Teague was of British nobility and that Jason Teague was the long, lost cousin of Prince Harry. Of course, _The Inquisitor _was garbage, but then again, he was biased.

"Nice to meet you," Clark said politely, shaking hands with Jason. He was careful not to crush the lucky bastard's hand. "Congratulations on the engagement."

Lana avoided his eyes and Clark suddenly wished that he was alone with her. He wanted to make her understand the hell that he had been through in the past ten years...and most of all...he wanted her forgiveness.

Before Clark could say anything else, Lois and Jimmy arrived.

"Do you mind if our photographer snaps a photo of you two?"

Lana looked as if she were about to protest, but agreed to it anyway. Clark watched as Jason placed an arm around her nicely tan shoulders and pulled her to him. In a flash, the moment was captured.

* * *

Both Genevieve and Jason Teague had invited Lois and Clark to stay and chat about the company for a bit, but Clark's attention kept slipping back to Lana who had slipped away by the double doors leading to the garden. Once the conversation hit a lull, Clark excused himself, ignoring Lois' annoyed expression. 

Clark approached her cautiously, unsure if she would welcome him or turn him away like last night. To his surprise and relief, when he reached her, she simply turned around and gave him a small smile. It was one of those smiles that he once knew so well, filled with a hint of melancholy and sorrow. It was the exact smile she had given him the day that he had left.

They stood in silence, enjoying each other's company, allowing the heavy tension between them to thin away. Finally, Lana broke the silence.

"It's weird, isn't it? Us being here...together...ten years later. It's almost like destiny."

Clark swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. He glanced down to find her luminous eyes staring back at him quite intensely. "I thought you didn't believe in destiny."

She shifted, turning to face the garden through the glass doors. "I don't...didn't..." She paused and bit her bottom lip. It was hard to imagine that those were the same lips that had pleasured him nearly ten years ago. "The day that you left...I realized something."

"What?" Clark breathed. He still couldn't believe that they were actually standing here, having this conversation. It was surreal...the whole thing was. The past night...bumping into her...was totally random and now...this...

"That you really did have to go. You didn't have a choice...it was your destiny," Lana murmured, looking up at him. Her eyes spoke of the pain that he had caused her the day that he had left. Clark felt a sudden urge to wrap her in his arms and never let go, but he held back.

There was an abrupt interruption of applause erupting from behind them. Clark glanced behind just in time to see Jason Teague make his way up to the stage where he shook hands with his father. Clark tore his eyes away from the scene and placed his full attention back on Lana. Their eyes met and Clark had the impression that she was about to make up an excuse to leave.

Thinking quickly, he blurted out, "Would you like to walk with me? In the garden, I mean." He made a vague gesture at the garden through the glass doors.

Clark took notice of her hesitation and the darting of her eyes from the stage and back to him. He knew that he had put her on the spot--choosing between where she belonged, and the past. His mind told him that she would decline his offer, but his heart sang a different tune, half hoping that she would accept.

Lana looked at the stage where Jason was giving his speech. He had practiced that particular speech in front of her until the words had driven her crazy. As much as she hated to listen to them for the umpteenth time, she knew that she should stay. This was where she belonged after all. But...did she? Did she really belong here?

Lana raised her eyes to meet Clark's and almost mechanically, she nodded her head. "I'd like that."

A small smile played on her lips as Clark, having gotten over his disbelief, finally took a step forward and held open one of the glass double doors for her. He was still the gentleman. As Lana stepped past him and out into the garden path, she couldn't help but get a whiff of his cologne. Or was that just his masculine scent? Whatever it was, it was certainly stirring up old memories for her.

Lana scolded herself for even thinking about those memories. She was an engaged woman, after all. It was wrong of her to be thinking of her and her ex-boyfriend's more...intimate moments.

She glimpsed a peak at Clark and caught his pensive expression. She wondered if he was thinking about her and this night. Of course, if he was or wasn't didn't matter. Their time had come and gone. Her feelings for him were completely platonic; nothing even remotely romantic. At least, she hoped not.

They walked in silence through the garden for a few minutes, enjoying each other's company and the warm April night. The bugs were out and more than once, Lana had to raise a hand to swat one away. Clark cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. As he did this, Lana took notice of how he looked in his tux. God, he was as handsome as ever. She could tell that it wasn't a generic designer tux and for some reason, that give him a slight edge that even Jason didn't have.

"So, how'd you two meet?"

The sudden baritone of his voice startled her as these were his first words out in the open of the Teague gardens. It took a while before his question registered in her mind.

"I was working at local cafe to pay my way through college and there he was." Lana shrugged, pausing in her steps. "Things just started spiraling from there. The next thing I know, I'm planning a wedding for five hundred guests."

Clark nodded, sticking his hands in his pocket. "Does he treat you well?"

The question caught her off guard, but she held her ground. "Yeah, he does. He's always there when I need him."

He nodded again, bringing a hand up to straighten his glasses--a habit that he had picked up four years ago, when he had first starting wearing them. "Do you love him?"

Again, she was taken aback by the question and this time, Clark could sense it.

"I'm sorry...I shouldn't have..." Clark mumbled, mentally kicking himself.

"No...it's okay." Lana glanced at him before adding, "Yes, I do love him." For a fleeting second, she could have sworn she saw a momentarily expression of hurt on his face, but she shrugged it off.

Clark tried to keep his expression neutral as he replayed her words in his head. There was something in her voice...something that seemed as if she were simply saying the words aloud to convince herself of them.

The two continued their stroll through the garden, both lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, they reached the end of the vast ground and turned back.

"How about you? Is there anyone special in Clark Kent's life?" Lana inquired; her tone light.

He shook his head and kept his gaze down. "No...not really."

"Not even...?"

Clark looked up. "Well, there was someone. My partner from the Daily Planet...Lois Lane. We sorta dated for a while...but it didn't work out."

"I'm sorry," Lana said quietly, wondering if he really had a hard time picking up women or if he simply didn't want the company. Of course, Clark always had a hard time opening up to people. It wouldn't surprise her if his hero complex prevented him from getting into a serious relationship. He had used that excuse on her during their junior year of high school and Lana could understand how that threat was much stronger, now that he was Superman.

Lana smiled to herself, a memory flooding back to her. It had been a Sunday morning when she had unfolded _The Daily Planet_ to the front page where a black and white picture of Superman had been spread across. The headline had read _Metropolis' Caped Vigilante Saves Family From Apartment Fire_. That had been the first major article and respectable newspaper that Superman had first appeared in. Shortly afterwards, The Daily Planet had decided to give the caped vigilante a name--Superman.

"Why are you smiling?" Clark asked, interrupting her thoughts.

She paused and turned to him. "I was just thinking of the day I opened the Sunday newspaper and there you were...spread right across the front page."

He didn't respond right away. Instead he made a small noise that Lana couldn't make heads or tail out of. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, he finally asked, "How long have you known?"

Lana didn't hesitate. "Since the moment I unfolded that newspaper."

"You knew last night, didn't you? The moment I landed..."

She nodded, turning to face him again. The light coming from the garden path was barely bright enough to make out the apprehension and wary drawn upon his facial features.

Clark also paused in his steps, turning to face her as well. From a short distance, the light coming from the gala could be seen and he wondered if she would be returning soon. She probably would, he decided. It had been a while since they had stepped out those doors and wasn't exactly like she wasn't unknown. In fact, it was the opposite. Lana was about to marry a well-known lawyer, after all. Someone was bound to notice that she had gone missing...even if it was for a short time.

After what seemed like eternity, Lana finally tore her eyes away from Clark, feeling a bit nostalgic. Once she had composed herself, she said, "I think that I'd better be heading back now."

Clark nodded, understanding. "I'll walk you back."

The two walked the rest of the way back with an air of familiarity and new-found intimacy. It wasn't until they reached the doors that Clark got up the nerves to ask her the one thing that had been bugging him throughout their stroll.

"Lana?"

She withdrew her hand from the door knob and turned to give him her full attention.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she replied uncertainly. Nevertheless, she gave him a comforting smile.

Clark stuffed his hands in the pockets of his rented tux. "Why did you agree to come out with me tonight? I mean...last night..." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a figure making his or her way toward the doors.

Lana sighed, casting her eyes to the ground. Eventually, they found their way to his again. "For some reason, I just can't seem to stay mad at you for very long, Clark Kent."

Her comment surprised him, but he gave a little smile, nonetheless. "Lana...I know that I owe you an explanation of some sort...I'm not even sure if you want to hear it...but..."

Lana put up her hand. "Clark, it's alright." She paused and took a breath. "It's in the past now."

"I know..." He sighed in frustration. "I just wished that things could have ended differently between us."

"Me too," Lana said quietly.

There was an awkward pause before Clark stepped forward and swung open the door for her to enter.

As much as this went against her instinct, Lana hesitated. "Clark...I know that we can't undo the past...but maybe we can do something about the future."

It took a moment for her comment to register. Clark swallowed the lump growing in his throat. "What do you mean?"

"I mean...maybe we could be friends? You were the best friend I ever had, Clark. I...I want us to be close again." There. She had said it. Now the ball was in his court.

Clark could barely believe what he was hearing. He wasn't sure if he wanted to scream for joy or pinch himself--not that it would hurt. As much as he wanted..._needed_ her in his life...it was a dangerous gamble. One, he wasn't sure if those feelings for her were still there, simply dormant and waiting to spring out at any time. Second, she was getting married. How would her fiancé approve of this? Her meeting her ex-boyfriend for friendly lunches or movies... And of course, there was the issue of Superman that needed to be addressed. Could he risk exposing her to that threat again?

"Clark?"

He glanced up. Her eyes were seemingly bright and luminescent. He couldn't bear to break her heart again...nor his own. "Yeah, of course. Friends."

Just seeing her break out into a genuine smile was enough for him to grin back as well. Their moment came to an abrupt end as the figure that Clark had seen earlier interrupt.

"Lana?"

She turned toward the figure that was only a few feet away, wearing a confused expression on his face.

"Jason..."

"What are you doing out there?"

Clark could see the wheels in Lana's head turning, quickly fishing for a cover-up story. He intervened before she had the chance.

"It's my fault. I was just pumping her on some information about your promotion to head of Marion, Teague, and Weisman Law Firm. I couldn't help it...journalistic skills just sorta kicked in." He threw in an apologetic grin for good measure as well.

"Right..." Jason nodded. "Well, if you don't mind, I'd like to steal her away for a while."

Clark didn't fail to catch the scowl on Lana's face, but he nodded, nonetheless. "Of course. Thanks for your time...Lana."

"Anything for an old friend," Lana said, assuming the role quickly. She gave him a discreet smile as she slipped inside, leaving Clark outside.

Through the glass doors, he saw Jason put a hand on her back, leading her away from prying eyes. Clark had to focus in on them with his x-ray vision as they had disappeared into one of the hallways leading to the other parts of the estate. He immediately regretted it as Jason leaned down to place a kiss on her lips.

Clark blinked, taking him out of his x-ray stupor. He took a few steps back and discreetly changed into his Superman costume. He then took off into the night sky, a lone figure in the midst of clusters of stars.


	4. Vacation

"Jason--" Lana placed her hands on his chest and gave him a little shove. "Not now."

Jason pulled his head away from her, a bit shocked at her reaction to his attempt to kiss her. "Why not? We're finally away from prying eyes...and that reporter."

Lana felt a strong need to defend Clark's actions. She took a step back, the noise of her footstep ricocheting off the walls of the empty hallway. "Clark's an old friend, Jason. I agreed to follow him out to the gardens."

"I know... It's just, you never mentioned him to me before."

Lana raised an eyebrow, frowning. "What are you getting at?"

"I don't know... I just would have thought that if you two were such good friends back in high school, you would have at least mentioned him to me once. I genuinely felt that he was just using you for information." He shrugged. "That's why I pulled you away. I know how much you hate reporters."

Lana inwardly let out a breath. Good, he didn't suspect anything out of the ordinary. She forced a smile. "Well, Clark's a special case."

Jason nodded. "Of course."

There was an awkward pause between them before Lana suggested, "Why don't you head back to the gala? I'll be right there in a second...I have to use the restroom."

Although he looked skeptical, Jason agreed and slipped back into the ballroom. Instead of heading to the ladies' room, however, Lana remained in the hallway, replaying her last words with Clark in her mind.

What was she thinking asking him to remain friends? It was dangerous enough that she kept running into him all over the place. First the alley and now here...it was as if fate wasn't done playing its game with the two of them yet. Lana felt like a game board piece, randomly moving up and down a board, waiting for another board piece to eat her or take away all her fortunes.

It was always a gamble getting into a relationship with Clark--whether it was platonic or romantic. Clark guarded his emotions and thoughts so well...it was a wonder how she had gotten so close to him in high school. Of course, capturing his heart had helped, Lana remembered, smiling wistfully.

The fact was that Lana wasn't completely sure where her feelings for him lied. She thought that she had sorted that whole mess out the night before, but tonight, after seeing him in his drool-worthy tux...

And it wasn't just his physical appearance that had Lana examining her feelings for him. He was different...she couldn't quite put her finger on it yet, but there was something there. Something to show for the past ten years.

Lana sighed. Everything with Clark just had to be complicated, didn't it? How many times had she actually sat down--or in this case, stood--and sorted through the past and present?

Well, one thing was for sure. She had opened up a door; a door that would allow Clark to enter her life again. The question was: did she want to close it?

**

* * *

Two Weeks Later **

"What the hell is this, Kent?"

Clark flinched slightly as the editor-in-chief of the _Daily Planet_ threw down a manila folder containing his latest article.

"It's the article you wanted," Clark said slowly, pushing up his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose. Wrong thing to say--Perry's face was going redder by the second.

"No, this," Perry began, holding up another manila folder, "is the article I wanted. Not some editorial on how small town life is better than city life!"

Clark made a small noise, not quite knowing how to respond. He continued to stare at the folder in Perry's hand as he watched the color in Perry's face drain away slightly.

"Dammit, Kent. What am I going to do with you?" Perry sunk into his worn upholster chair, rubbing his face with his hands.

Clark shifted from foot to foot.

"Look, Kent, you're one of my best reporters. But lately, you've been slacking off. Coming to work later than usual...appearing distracted all the time...giving me crappy work like this." He picked up the article off the desk and slammed it down to emphasize his point.

Clark, having found his vocal cords, managed to get out, "I'm sorry, Mr. White...I've just been...out of it."

"Well, you better get back into it," Perry said briskly. Then, out of nowhere, he shot out, "You feeling homesick, Kent?"

"What?"

"This is the third time you've mentioned that charming little hometown of yours in one of your drafts."

"Uh..."

"You know what I think you need?" Perry leaned back in his chair, a small smile coming back into his features.

"No, not really..." Clark pushed his glasses up again.

"A vacation!" Perry exclaimed, looking quite smug with himself. Just then, the phone rang and Clark had to wait until he could collaborate with Perry on that idea.

A vacation? Clark hadn't heard that word in quite some time. Well, except the daily calls on his answering machine left by his mother, pestering him to visit Smallville soon.

Clark watched as Perry scribbled something down and put the person on the other line on hold.

"How many weeks of vacation have you accumulated?"

"Uh..."

"Tell you what? I'll give you four weeks off because I'm a nice guy."

Clark's eyes widened at that proposal. "Mr. White...I don't think..."

But he was already back on the phone and Clark was forced to wait again. Finally, Perry cupped his hand to the mouth piece and waved his hand at Clark to get going. "Get going, Kent. I expect to see you back here in four weeks and you better have some stories to pull out of your ass."

Clark sighed, knowing that when Perry made up his mind, it was final. He shuffled out of office and just as the door behind him slammed shut, Jeanne, Perry's secretary, came running up to him.

"There you are, Kent," she began breathlessly, shifting some folders in her arms, no doubt all for Perry. "You have a call on line one."

Clark frowned, baffled at who would be calling him at work. He hadn't given out his work number to anyone except his parents and Pete, and they rarely, if ever, called him at work.

He thanked her and made his way to his cubicle. Thankfully, Lois was out of state on an interview in New York City, so, the cubicle over was empty. Clark gingerly picked up the receiver and said the usual, "Hello?"

"Clark? This is Pete."

"Hey, man." Clark sunk into his seat and began shuffling his papers into his briefcase. Yes, he worked hard at his job, but hey, he wasn't going to pass up four weeks of vacation, especially if it was a paid one. "What's up?"

"Some wedding news," Pete announced on the other line. Clark had to admit, he did sound rather happy.

"Spill." He glanced at his watch, noting that it was a little before two.

"Well, we've set a date. May 20th. That's a Saturday and it's also your birthday."

"Oh. Well, gives me an extra reason to celebrate."

"Yeah...Well, it doesn't leave us a lot of time for wedding preparations. That's why you have to come done here this weekend so that we can start doing the best man stuff."

Clark shut his briefcase and wondered if Perry and Pete both planned this. "Well, tomorrow's Saturday, right? I'll just run down."

He could sense Pete hesitating on the other line. "Well...this best man stuff is going to take a while...we can't get it all done in a weekend."

"What if I told you that I have four weeks of vacation?"

"I'd ask if this is really Clark Kent, A.K.A. Superman, and the guy who _never_ takes a break."

Clark smiled. "This is him."

"You're not serious, are you? You're really going to be spending a month in Smallville?"

"Well...I don't know if it's going to be a full month... I still have that other job...you know, the one that entails flying around and saving people."

"Of course."

The conversation hit a lull and Clark grabbed at the opportunity to end the conversation so that he could get out of the office. Rush hour was about to start and he needed to pick up a few items from the store. Of course, he was positive that Superman would be needed to clear a few accidents in the next hour or so.

"Listen, Pete...I gotta go..."

There was a chuckle over the line. "You never stop trying to save the world, do you?"

Clark shrugged, but remembered that Pete couldn't see him. "Old habits die hard and all that."

Once Clark had assured Pete that he would, indeed, be heading down to Smallville tomorrow, he hung up the phone and proceeded to leave. He passed by the many cubicles and the realization hit him that he probably wouldn't be back in this building for a whole month. It was strange, really. He had spent a many late nights in this building by himself, caffeine being his only company.

He yawned as he punched the down button for the elevator. Perhaps it was time for a vacation. The past two weeks had been hectic. Five fires, a dozen or so major accidents, and there had been that one unsolved murder that had weighed him down for at least a week. The poor mother of three had been gunned down while Superman was out patrolling the downtown area of Metropolis. Since then, Superman had been extra careful to patrol the outskirts of Metropolis a little more carefully. It seemed like Superman's work never quite ended.

Clark sighed and bent down to pick up his briefcase from the floor once the elevator doors slid open. It was time for Superman's day to begin.

* * *

Superman landed gracefully on the rooftop of a mediocre apartment complex. Inconspicuously, he slipped out of his Superman costume, the darkness of the night concealing his identity. Once he had adjusted his white tee and jeans comfortably, he headed for the emergency stairway that would bring him inside of the building. 

To his relief, he had managed to sneak in without the prying eyes of his neighbors. Most of them were elderly and had nothing to do but to watch him and his supposed drug smuggling schemes, as Mr. Harris had put it. Mr. Harris lived across the hall from him and while his wife often treated him to baked goods and chatted to him politely about their grandchildren, Mr. Harris was always looking for some excuse to pin down another crime on him. Twice, he had called the cops on him, which Clark thought hilarious, considering he was Superman.

Clark smiled to himself and pulled out his keys from his front pocket. He let himself in and flicked on the lights to reveal a slightly disorganized kitchen and living area. Clark threw down the paper bag that held his Superman outfit on the ugly worn couch that he had gotten at a garage sale. It wasn't that he couldn't afford furniture or proper working appliances now that he was the star reporter for the _Daily Planet_, it was just time-consuming to spend a whole weekend shopping to update his home. Clark Kent might get paid vacations, but Superman certainly didn't.

Clark padded toward the old Kenmore refrigerator and pulled it open. He gingerly picked up a box of left over Thai noodles, sniffed it, and then with a grimace, dumped it in the trash. After sniffing and trashing basically all the food in his fridge, Clark decided to give Shanghai Ming a call.

Once Clark hung up the phone, he flopped down on the couch and glanced at the time. Ten twenty-one. It was a good thing that Shanghai Ming was open twenty-four seven for those like him that were kitchen illiterate.

Deciding to kill some time before his food was ready, he fiddled with his answering machine, ceasing the red light that had been blinking for a week.

The first message was from an interviewee, correctly something that she had said earlier in an interview. The following ones were basically people trying to sell him Viagra or a new television. Of course, there were a handful of ones from his mother, inquiring about his next visit to Smallville.

With a jolt of realization, Clark realized that he could finally stop pretending he hadn't received any calls from her. He picked up the phone and dialed the number to his childhood home. After one ring, he hastily hung up, remembering the time. His parents would probably be asleep by now, no doubt, considering their early mornings.

Clark leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes.

When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed that he was sitting in the dark. Outside, he could hear the pounding of rain and trees swinging back and forth.

"The power must have gone out," Clark said aloud. He stood up and stretched, noting that it was a little passed midnight. Wondering if it was just this building or the entire city, Clark felt his way through the dark, looking for his Superman costume. He was just about to change when there was a knock at the door.

He staggered through the dark and finally, his hand landed on the doorknob. "Please don't let it be Mr. Harris on the other side," he muttered. He pulled the door open and blinked, his eyes still adjusting to the darkness. From what he could make out, it looked like an outline of a woman draped in a long coat. Dripping sounds could be heard, suggesting that she had probably traveled through the rain.

Not knowing what to say, Clark waited for her to say something.

"Clark?" she breathed.

He swallowed hard. "Lana?"

_Hit the purple button!_


	5. Unexpected Visitor

"Can I come in?"

"Y-yeah...of course." Clark stepped aside and allowed her in. He was just about to shut the door when he remembered that it was pitched black.

"Wait here, okay?" Clark said uncertainly. When he heard her make a little sound, he super sped out of the room.

From the sudden rush of wind, Lana knew that Clark had just gone into super speed mode. No doubt he was out in the pouring rain trying to restore the power. Forever playing the hero.

A few minutes later, the lights flicked on and Lana got the first glimpse into his apartment and life. There were no dishes in the sink, though she wasn't entirely sure if the reason for that was his tidiness or lack of cooking skills. All of his furniture was worn and the coffee table looked like it could use a good dusting. She smiled slightly at the thought of Genevieve Teague walking into this room.

Lana took a step forward to sit on the couch, but realized that she was dripping all over the carpet. She hadn't thought of grabbing an umbrella on her way out. In fact, she hadn't thought of grabbing anything but her purse, keys, and coat.

The door opened just then and in came a soaked Clark Kent. Lana blushed furiously as she tried to advert her eyes from his abs that were putting on quite a show through his wet tee.

He smiled at her gently and wordlessly passed her to what she assumed was his bedroom. A few moments later, he emerged, handing her a blue towel, a white shirt, and some gray sweatpants.

"You can change in there." He tilted his head to the side to indicate the bedroom.

"Thanks," she said quietly, watching his eyes explore her face. She knew that he probably had a million questions running through his mind at the moment, but she prayed that he wouldn't bombard her with them now. She was too emotionally drained for that.

Lana slipped into his room and shut the door behind her, flicking on his bedside lamp. She resisted the urge to go lie down on his bed and snuggle under the covers in which he slept with. Instead, she pulled off her wet jacket, shirt, and jeans. She wiped herself dry with the towel and after some contemplating, she ridded her bra as well. She hung them to dry in his bathroom and slipped into the sweats and t-shirt that he had loaned her. Once she placed her shoes in the corner, she rolled up the hem of the sweats so that she wouldn't trip in them.

Hoping that he wouldn't mind, she hunted through his chest of drawers, looking for socks. Once she was fully clothed, she couldn't help but resist bringing his shirt up to get a whiff of his masculine scent. God, he smelt so good.

Chiding herself for acting foolish, Lana took a deep breath and reentered the living area where she found Clark in the process of changing into dry clothes. She cleared her throat to let her presence be known and he quickly turned around.

Thinking on her feet, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "Umm...sorry for dripping all over your carpet."

It took a moment for her comment to register, but Clark finally responded. "Oh...don't worry about it. The carpet's at least a decade old anyway."

Lana smiled at his attempt at humor.

"Umm...do you want something to eat?" he offered, walking over to the fridge where he pulled it open.

"It's a quarter past twelve..."

He shrugged. "Are you hungry?"

Lana nodded, admitting that she was. Friday nights at the Teague estate was chopped liver night.

Clark shut the fridge closed and began pulling cabinets open. "Umm...I have some cereal...that expired a year ago."

Lana joined him in the search for food. "Wow...your fridge is really empty."

"Yeah...well...I don't really need to eat."

"Oh, right...I sorta forgot." Lana closed refrigerator and leaned against the counter, admiring him as he bent down to check the cabinets below. She giggled suddenly, a thought occurring to her.

"What?"

"Oh...nothing." No need to give him more reasons to make him think she was insane.

He grinned, giving up his quest for food. "No...what?"

She sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to drop it. "It's just...I was thinking about how your mother would react if she stepped inside this place."

He laughed, smiling along with her. "Now you know why she's never been in here."

An awkward pause remained once their chuckles had died down and Lana felt herself fidgeting with the hem of the shirt that he had loaned her.

"So..." Clark coughed and made a move toward the living area. "Umm...you can have my bed and I'll just take the couch. Is that okay?"

Lana shook her head. "I'll take the couch...I mean, I feel bad just showing up here...in the middle of the night..." She paused, looking up at him. She could feel the question at the tip of his tongue.

Clark fumbled with the question for a couple of seconds before saying cautiously, "Why are you doing here, anyway? I mean, don't get me wrong, I love...I love your company and all...but..."

Lana gave him a little shrug and turned away. "You're probably going to think this is silly."

"I won't," he assured her, taking a step toward her. Lana turned around, facing him again. "I promise," he added sincerely.

She smiled warmly. "You remember Jason, don't you?"

How could he forget?

"Well...we sort of got into an argument tonight."

Clark immediately tensed up. "He didn't hurt you...did he?"

"No...no, nothing like that." Lana sighed and wrapped her arms around herself. "Jason and I...well...we were at his parent's house. And suddenly, out of no where, his mother brings up the location of the wedding and how plans have already been made to have it held in St. Mary's in the downtown district of Metropolis."

"I couldn't believe it...I mean, all this time, I thought that the wedding would be held in Smallville. I even told Jason right away after he proposed and he promised me it would be in Smallville. I had this entire vision of what our wedding day would look like...out in the open of the fields, under the sunset..."

She paused, noticing a smile creeping up on Clark's expression. "I thought you said that you wouldn't think this is silly."

Clark snapped out of his daze. "I won't--I mean...I don't. I was just imagining you in a wedding dress."

"Do I look that funny?"

"What? No...I just..."

"Clark, relax. I'm just teasing you."

"Oh, right."

Lana shifted. "You know what? I should probably let you get to bed." For some reason, she felt really uncomfortable talking to him about Jason.

"No, it's okay. Keep going. We can even move this conversation to the couch if you want."

Lana followed him to the couch and took a seat next to him, making sure to leave some space between them.

"How did you find me anyway?" Clark wondered, remembering that although he and Lana had chosen to remain friends, they hadn't exchanged any means of contacting each other.

"I looked you up in the phonebook." She flushed when she realized how desperate that sounded. She added quickly, "I mean you were the only one I knew...in Metropolis..."

Clark hid his grin, nodding. There was a lull in the conversation in which Lana yawned several times.

"Why don't you go ahead and get some sleep? I'll camp out here on the couch tonight."

"Are you sure?" Lana inquired through a yawn. "I feel horrible for kicking you out of your own bed."

Clark smiled and stood up. "Go ahead. I'll just grab a spare pillow and blanket from the bedroom."

Lana watched him as he disappeared into the bedroom. After a minute, he emerged, carrying a pillow and red blanket.

"It's all set up in there," he informed her as she stood from the sofa. To his surprise, she pulled him a hug.

"Thanks for everything, Clark," she whispered, padding toward his room.

Lana shut the door behind her and slipped under the covers of his master bed. She sighed deeply, inhaling his scent that had been left behind on his pillows. After making herself comfortable, she replayed the day's events.

When she got to her rather heated argument with Jason, Lana couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for being here, in her ex-boyfriend's bed.

Of course, if Jason had really wanted to find her, he would've found her by now, Lana reasoned with herself. It was obvious that he wasn't that concerned about her whereabouts, so why should she have to feel guilty?

With that in mind, Lana pushed her thoughts of Jason from her mind and replaced them with a certain hero who had an affixture for the colors red and blue.


	6. A Proposal

The morning sun spilled through the open shades that he had forgotten to draw close last night. Clark groaned and buried his head deeper into his pillow, blindly reaching out for his red comforter. Having flinging his hand helplessly at the air for the past minute, he finally opened his eyes.

He reached down to drag the blanket off of the floor and on to his body. He had forgotten that he had given up his bed for Lana last night.

Clark rubbed his face and pushed himself up into a sitting position. After letting his morning grogginess fade away, he stood up, stretched, and padded toward his room.

He pushed the door open quietly and poked his head in. To his astonishment, she was gone.

He blinked several times, trying to calm his beating heart. Maybe she was in the bathroom...

Nope, she wasn't. Clark moved toward the bed, checking if she had left any note of some sort. When he was certain that she hadn't, he plopped himself down on the bed, confused to hell as to why she had just taken off.

Had he scared her away last night? He had taken extra care last night not to say or do anything that would jeopardize what little relationship he had with her. And it wasn't as if she had been cold to him the night before either. In fact, she had been the opposite.

What then? What could have made her run off without a good-bye? Clark reflected on the events of last night carefully in his mind. Just before she had gone to bed, she had thanked him...and then what?

She had hugged him. Clark could still feel the sparks from that hug and he scolded himself for not remembering.

Had that hug scared her off? Had it made her realize that she had gone too far? What would her fiancé think of her showing up in the middle of the night at her ex-boyfriend's apartment?

And why did he have so many questions?

Clark sighed and rubbed his temples, feeling drained. He settled into his bed and was about to drift off to sleep when he heard the front door open and slam shut.

He dragged himself off of the mattress and headed for the door, praying that it wasn't Mr. Harris. For all he knew, Mr. Harris would threaten to call to cops on him for housing a prostitute last night.

Clark froze when he saw who was standing in his kitchen, putting away groceries.

"Lana?"

"'Morning, Clark," she replied rather cheerfully, along with a radiant smile. When he didn't say anything in return, the smile turned into a small frown. "Are you okay? You look like you saw a ghost," she commented, stopping what she was doing and walking over to where he was standing.

"But--how--?" Clark managed to get out while his mind was doing a one-eighty.

Lana giggled, obviously amused.

"I thought that you had left."

"Me? Oh, no, I just went to get us some breakfast and restock your fridge," Lana explained. "I'm sorry if I worried you..."

How could he resist those big innocent eyes of hers? Clark smiled, grateful that she hadn't run off. "You didn't have to do that. I mean, buy groceries."

She shrugged, moving back to the make-shift kitchen where she resumed putting away produce. "I wanted to. It was the least that I could do."

Clark moved forward, helping her put away cereal and other snacks into the cupboards that she couldn't reach. Twice, his hand brushed hers while reaching over to grab some more groceries.

Once the items were put away, Clark noticed Lana pulling out a brand new frying pan out of the bottom cabinets and ripping the price tag off.

"Well, I can see that you've put mileage on this thing," Lana commented, pulling out various other ingredients that she needed.

"Yeah...it was a going-away present from my mom... I guess I never really got around to using it."

She smiled and turned the dial on the stove top to high.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked curiously, watching her set out a couple of eggs to the side.

"How do you like your eggs?"

"What?"

Lana laughed and repeated the question.

"Umm...scrambled?"

"Scrambled it is then." She began cracking eggs and whisking them with a fork.

"Are you cooking me breakfast?"

"No, I'm making eggs for your house plant."

"I don't have a house plant," Clark observed, enjoying their playful banter. It was hard to imagine that just a few minutes ago; he was bewildered as hell about her supposed departure.

"Why don't you go take a shower while I finish up breakfast?" Lana suggested, pouring oil into the pan.

"You know, you don't have to do this," Clark said, his eyes glued to her every move.

"I know. But I want to," she simply replied.

With those words ringing in his head, it took every fiber in his being not to burst into an out-of-tune song while showering.

He had just stepped out of the shower stall when the ringing of his cell could be heard. Clark threw on a towel on his waist and exited the bathroom. Thankfully, his cell phone was lying on his nightstand and he needn't venture out to the front where Lana was preparing breakfast.

"Hello?"

"Clark? It's Pete."

"Hey, Pete." Clark headed for the bathroom again, grabbing a hand towel to dry his hair. "What's up?"

There was a pause on the other line. "I thought you were coming into Smallville today."

"I am?" Genuine surprise was inflicted into his tone.

"Yeah...for the best man duties?"

He mentally smacked himself on the head. "Oh, right! It slipped my mind...I'm really sorry."

"Hey, don't sweat it. Just come now. It'll only take like what, a second?"

"Actually..." Clark could hear the sizzling of what he assumed was bacon outside of the room; and not only that, but he could smell the aroma as well. Buying himself some more time, he inquired where he was going to meet up with Pete at.

"Actually, I'm at your parent's house right now. Marie is here with me too...your mom invited us over to breakfast when I told her about your visit."

"Oh..."

"So, any second now, I'll see you at the door?"

"Won't Marie wonder how I got there so fast?"

"Nah, I'm outside, on the porch."

"Oh."

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Why does it seem like you're trying to come up with some sort of excuse not to come down here?"

Maybe it's because I am, Clark thought. "Listen, Pete...I sorta have some company right now..."

"What do you mean you _sorta_ have some company?"

"Well, I--" He was cut off by a half whoop and a burst of laughter from Pete.

"You finally got laid, didn't you?" Pete exclaimed so loud that Clark had to hold the phone away from his eardrums. "I knew you had in ya, man!"

Clark flushed red and was glad that no one could see him. "Pete..."

"Who was it? Someone from the office?"

"Pete, I didn't get laid."

"Oh."

There was an awkward pause on both ends of the line before Clark heard Pete clear his throat. "So...are you still coming down here?"

"Yeah...I'll be there soon," Clark heard himself say, before hanging up. With a disappointed expression, he turned to glance at the door. Just a few feet beyond that door would be Lana. It seemed unfair that of all the days he could have ventured down to Smallville, it just had to be this day.

* * *

Lana placed one last strawberry on his plate and stood up a little straighter to admire her work. In forty minutes, she had managed to whip up quite a healthy and delicious-looking meal.

She smiled to herself as she straightened up the stack of pancakes and toast that she had laid out. Lana was proud to confess that after all those years at the Kents' for breakfast, she had, indeed, picked up something.

A smile crossed her features as she thought back to one lazy, summer morning at the Kent household. Ever since she had stepped back into the conundrum that was Clark Kent, memories of her past romance with him had been popping up at random moments. Like now, for instance.

"What are you smiling about?"

Lana spun around and was met with the sight of Clark Kent dressed in a red tee and jeans. She was glad that he had ditched the flannel for something else that showed off his abs and biceps better.

"I was just thinking about the time that your parents were in Metropolis for your dad's heart examination," Lana confessed, watching him as he made his way toward her.

"I remember that," Clark said, beginning to grin. "You stayed the night before and..."

Lana blushed slightly, knowing that they were treading into dangerous waters. Thankfully, Clark skipped the part where they had made love into the early hours of the next morning.

"I remember waking up and wondering where you had gone," Lana admitted.

_The sun's rays filtered through the checkered curtains of the room. Under the plaid comforter, Lana snuggled deeper into the warmth that she and Clark had created the night before. Subconsciously, she reached under the sheets for the familiar warmth that Clark could only emanate. Perplexed when she couldn't find any, she slowly sat up._

_Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and brushing the hair out of the face, Lana looked around the room. "Clark?" she called, her voice cracking from the silence of her sleep._

_Once she felt confident that she was awake enough to travel down the stairs, she grabbed Clark's flannel shirt from the floor, slipped it on, and padded across the room to the door._

_"Clark?" Lana called again, now at the bottom of the stairs. An aroma of bacon and eggs suddenly hit her nostrils and she headed toward the kitchen._

_She let out a giggle as she caught sight of Clark, only in his boxers, cooking breakfast._

_"Clark?"_

_He spun around, surprised. "Lana? What are you doing out of bed?"_

_"Looking for you," she replied, crinkling her nose. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands settled on her hips. _

_"You ruined my surprise," he informed her, kissing her lightly on the lips. "I was going to bring you breakfast in bed."_

_"Mmm...but you can still do that," Lana mumbled against his chest as his hands explored her body._

_Abruptly, she pulled back, glancing behind him. "Clark, do you smell something burning?"_

_His eyes got wide and he turned around just in time to see black smoke hovering over the frying pan. He cursed loudly as the fire alarm on the ceiling began shrieking._

_Lana, herself, almost shrieked when Clark put his bare hands on the pan, smothering the flames. She caught herself just in time, remembering that Clark was invulnerable._

_Once the flames were out, Lana rushed to Clark, grabbing his hands._

_"Lana, it's okay," he reminded her as she examined his palms._

_"I know...it's just hard for me to see you walk through fire or take a bullet," she admitted._

_He gave her a gentle smile and kissed her forehead. "Well, I guess breakfast is ruined."_

_Lana laughed, looking at the mess. "It's the thought that counts, right?"_

_"Of course. I love you."_

_She smiled. "I love you, too, Clark Kent."_

"I still can't believe you burnt the food," Lana teased him.

"Hey, it wasn't my fault that I was distracted by your beauty," Clark protested.

Lana felt a blush creeping up. Was it just her or was he flirting with her?

"Well, I'm glad to announce that _I_ didn't burn breakfast." Lana took his hand in hers and dragged him over to the kitchen counter where an assortment of breakfast foods was laid out.

"Wow..." Lana looked on as his eyes trailed over the strawberries that she had laid out on his plate to the mounds of pancake laced with syrup and bananas.

"I remembered that you always eat your pancakes with bananas," Lana explained, smiling widely at his reaction.

"Lana...you didn't have to do all this." Clark turned to her and took both her hands in his. "In fact, you really shouldn't have..."

"What do you mean?" She frowned slightly and searched his face.

"Listen...I'm supposed to be somewhere else right now," Clark confessed, squeezing her hands gently.

"What do you mean?" she questioned, slightly confused and disappointed. I have no right to be disappointed, Lana reminded herself suddenly. It wasn't as if they had planned to have breakfast or spend the morning together. Besides, this was crazy...she was at her ex-boyfriend's apartment, making him breakfast, without her fiancé's knowledge.

"Pete...you remember him, don't you? He's getting married in this month and he asked me to be his best man. And as best man, I'm supposed to be in Smallville today helping him with the wedding plans."

"Oh." Say something else, Lana scolded herself.

"I'm really sorry, Lana. I know that you probably had this whole day planned out for us to catch up...and you made this wonderful breakfast for me..."

"No, no..." Lana said, her voice finally working. "It's fine."

Clark peered at her closely. "No, it's not. I know you well enough to know that it's not."

"You know what?" Lana said abruptly, feeling foolish. "I think that I'll just go now. Try to clear the air between me and Jason."

At the mention of Jason, something inside of Clark snapped. He glanced down at her left hand that was still in his. Her engagement ring was shining in the bright morning sun, seemingly taunting.

"Come with me," he blurted out. "To Smallville, I mean."

Shocked at his proposal, Lana took a step back, a natural habit of hers. Though, Clark must have seen it as a negative reply as he quickly said, "I'm sorry... Forget that I ever said that."

"I can't forget." Lana bit her bottom lip. Here it was again, another window of opportunity. Before, it had been an invite out in the gardens for a walk and now it was a trip back to her hometown. They were both similar, but in this case, Lana knew that if she accepted, things would never be the same. She would never be able to just forget him like she'd tried to do before. No, if she accepted, Clark would be a permanent part of her life--a part that would never fade.

And yet, she couldn't refuse his offer at the same time. Perhaps, it was the need to reconnect with all things forgotten and the sweet memories. Perhaps, she needed a break away from her life and escape into her childhood dreams. Or, perhaps, Lana Lang was simply falling in love with Clark Kent again, the boy who had captured her heart ten years ago. And maybe, just maybe, still had it.


	7. Fleeting Moment

Sorry for the wait...I had hours of chem homework to do. Thanks for reading.

* * *

"How long has it been since you've been back in Smallville?" Clark asked as they drove past endless fields of corn stalk.

"Almost ten years, actually," Lana replied, her head pressed against the cool of the glass window. "I haven't really had any reason to come back here."

Clark glanced at her, certain that she was the most breath-taking thing he'd ever laid his eyes on. The gold from the stalks of corn and the early afternoon sun hit her facial features in a way that made her hair shine and her eyes sparkle, giving her an angelic and ethereal glow.

"What do you think of when you think of Smallville?"

Lana turned her head slightly to face him. "About high school mainly. Whoever said that high school would be the best and worst years of our lives was right."

Clark agreed silently with her. High school had been the most memorable and painful period of his life. Memorable because of all the lifelong bonds and relationships he had formed. Painful because of the breaking of some of those bonds.

"How about you? What do you think about?"

He continued to look out the windshield for a while before actually answering. "The same, I guess. Except, my high school ups and downs were a little more unique than yours."

Lana laughed, nodding her head. "You always were the unique one, Clark."

He shrugged, knowing that it was true.

"It's weird, you know, thinking back on high school. I remember feeling so insecure with myself and everyone around me. I was so scared that everyone I cared about was going to leave me... That fear stopped me from living life to its fullest," Lana said quietly, her gaze on him.

Clark tore his eyes from the road to stare back at her. "I think that everyone was trying to find themselves in high school, Lana. It doesn't make you any less strong or brave."

She gave him a sad, melancholic smile and turned back to look out the window. The rest of the drive to the Kent Farm was in silence, as both were consumed in their own thoughts.

When Clark pulled up into the driveway of his childhood home moments later, Lana had resumed her nervous habit of tucking her hair behind her ear. Clark watched out of the corner of his eye as she tucked strands of hair behind her left ear. A few minutes later, once he had killed the engine, she was smoothing out the front of her blue flannel shirt that he had loaned her.

"You look amazing," he assured her.

She turned to him and smiled slightly. "I guess that I'm just a little nervous. I haven't seen your parents in so long..." She trailed off and glanced at the yellow farm house. "I feel kinda guilty for losing contact with them. Especially your mom."

She had kept in contact with them? His mother hadn't mentioned anything to him before, Clark recalled, bewildered. Nevertheless, he gave her a reassuring smile, exited the car, and opened the door for her.

She thanked him quietly and waited as he ran around back to get his overnight bag. He hadn't packed much...just a couple of shirts, jeans, and the daily essentials. Clark was almost certain that his mom would have his room all ready for him anyway.

"I'm sure that my mom would be able to lend you some clothes," Clark commented as Lana wrapped her arms around her small frame. Another nervous habit of hers.

"If not, we could always go into town and get you some clothes," Clark continued, leading the way to the house. Lana was practically glued to his side.

Clark set his bag on the side of the porch and pulled open the screen door for Lana. Almost immediately, the aroma of freshly baked cinnamon apple pie filled their nostrils and Clark found himself regretting not coming home more often.

"Mom? Dad?" he called out, letting the screen door swing close behind him.

"Clark? Is that you?" There was the noise of a chair scrapping on the floor before Martha Kent came into view.

"Mom," Clark greeted, enveloping her in a bear hug as she planted a kiss on his cheek. "Where's Dad?" he asked once she had pulled away.

"Your father is still insisting on trying to run an entire farm all by himself," Martha replied, clearly at odds with this idea. She took a step back to get a good look at him and was about to chastise him about not eating enough when she spotted Lana over in the corner.

"Lana?"

"Hi, Mrs. Kent," Lana greeted timidly, as she stepped out from behind Clark's towering figure.

Clark saw his mother glance up at him, slightly confused, but never the one to be cold, she hugged Lana warmly, even giving her a kiss on the cheek. The gesture made his heart lighter and even a little nostalgic. His mother had treated Lana like a daughter when they were going steady...and even if they had kinks in their relationship, Martha Kent had always been there for her.

"Lana...this is a pleasant surprise," Martha said, acting as if Lana visited often and had just forgotten to mention this particular visit. "How are you, dear?"

"I'm...good," Lana replied, glancing at Clark, smiling.

Despite Martha's warm welcoming, there was still a moment of awkwardness. One of those moments when one has something to say or ask, but simply can not for fear of sounding rude.

Clark coughed. "Where's Pete, mom?"

"Oh, he had an appointment at the caterer's with Marie and her mother. He wanted to wait for you, but with the wedding next month...he's really pressed for time."

"Oh, okay."

Silence.

"Have you and Lana had lunch yet?"

"We had a really big breakfast," Clark answered for the both of them.

"Well, just let me know when you get hungry. That goes for _both_ of you," Martha said firmly, looking over at Lana with her crystal clear blue eyes.

"Thank you, Mrs. Kent," Lana said gratefully. Although she hadn't thought much about them over the past few years, Jonathon and Martha Kent meant as much to her as much as they meant to Clark. They had always been in her life since she was a little girl and it wasn't until she had befriended Clark that she had grown to appreciate them more. In her senior year of high school, Martha and Jonathon had treated Lana like she was their own daughter, constantly inviting her over for dinner and other family gatherings. For once in her life, she felt like she had a real family. But when Clark left Smallville for the world, Lana had been forced to break off her relationship with them, convinced that it was too painful to keep in touch with them.

"You know that you can always call me and Jonathon by our first names," Martha reminded her gently.

Clark, who had been rocking back and forth on the heels of his shoes, butted in right at that moment. "Mom, Lana doesn't have any clothes to wear. Do you think you have some that you could lend her?"

"Of course," Martha said graciously. She directed her attention to Lana. "Do you have a place to stay, sweetie?"

"Actually, I was thinking that Lana could take my room and I could sleep on the couch," Clark jumped in for Lana.

"I'll go set up Clark's room for you." Martha smiled at the two, giving her son a look that clearly read that he had some explaining to do later.

Once his mother reached the top of the stairs, Clark sneaked a glance at Lana. "Hey, you okay?"

Lana nodded slowly. "Yeah...I think I am." She smiled, showing her dimples, her eyes lighting up under the Kansas sun that was filtering through the kitchen window. "Thanks for inviting me out here, Clark. I think I really needed a break from Metropolis. Especially the wedding...and Jason."

At the mention of Jason, Clark frowned. "I'm glad that you came, Lana."

"Me too." She gave him one last smile before touching his arm in a grateful manner. "I'm going to go see if your mom needs any help."

Clark nodded, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans, watching her climb the stairs. Just as she disappeared from sight, the screech of the screen door opening and shutting sounded throughout the house.

Clark spun around just in time to see his dad, gray in the temples but still as proud and stubborn as he remembered. "Dad," he called out, strolling over to him.

"Clark?" Jonathon squinted at him, his forehead wrinkling up. He let out a laugh and cried, "C'mon over here and give me a hug."

Clark laughed and hugged him tightly as his dad thumped him on the back affectionately. "Mom tells me that you're still insisting on doing everything around here."

"Did she now?" Jonathon pulled away, his hands placed on his son's shoulders. "A man's gotta feed his family."

"What have you been doing with those paychecks that I've sent you and Mom?"

Jonathon slapped his shoulder and padded toward the fridge. He took his time pouring two glasses of orange juice, one for him and one for his son. "We've put them toward our retirement fund, son. Don't worry about us."

"Dad...the doctor said that you should take it easy. Even Mom agrees with me and thinks its time for you to retire."

"Retire?" Jonathon repeated as if it was all nonsense. "Nah, I've still got a couple of years left in me, Clark."

"Dad...your heart..." Clark reminded, accepting the orange juice from him.

"Clark, I feel fine. Now, I know that you didn't come all this way to Smallville to bicker about this with me."

Clark sighed, dropping the subject for now.

"Where's your mother? I would have thought she would be stuffing you up," Jonathon joked, noticing the apple cinnamon pie that was still on the cooling rack.

"She's upstairs...setting up my room." As soon as the words left his mouth, the chattering of small talk could be heard coming from the upstairs.

Jonathon shot Clark a look and cautiously approached the stairwell. "Who is your mother talking to?"

"Dad, Lana came with me to Smallville," he blurted out.

"Lana Lang? But...you haven't seen her in years," Jonathon reasoned.

"I know, but we bumped into each other a month ago. I was in my Superman costume and--"

"Wait a minute, Lana could tell that it was you in there? How do we know other people haven't been able to tell?"

"Dad, it's Lana."

Jonathon sighed, smiling despite his apprehension earlier. "How's Lana doing, son?"

"She's getting married next month." Clark swirled the orange juice in his glass, watching the little circles spinning around.

"By the look on your face, I'm guessing that it's not to you," Jonathon said wisely.

Clark shook his head, sighing. He lowered his voice so that it wouldn't carry upstairs. "Dad...it's been ten years since I've seen her... Why do I still feel the same way about her like I did ten years ago? It doesn't make any sense."

Jonathon smiled slightly and placed a hand on his son's shoulder, remembering the days when his son used to come to him for every single thing. "Lana was your first love, son. It's normal to want what you guys had back in high school. But you have to realize when to let go."

"Believe me, Dad, I've tried," he said seriously. "But...I just can't. Everywhere I go, I see her and hear her. Please tell me that this isn't normal."

"Well, you were never completely normal, Clark," Jonathon said lightly, squeezing his shoulder. "Look, I can't tell you what to do or what not to do, but you gotta remember that she's engaged now."

Clark nodded, understanding what his father was getting at.

"I'm going to go up and say 'hi' to Lana." Jonathon patted his son's shoulder. "Why don't you give Pete a call? I'm sure that he wants to know that you're in so that you can get your tuxedo fitted for the wedding."

Clark watched as his dad disappeared upstairs, leaving him alone in the kitchen with his full glass of orange juice in his hand. He took a seat at one of the stools at the breakfast counter and sipped the juice, listening to the conversation taking place in his room. As easily as Lana Lang had slipped out of his life, she had fit right in again.

* * *

Clark stuffed the last piece of pie on his mouth and dropped his fork with a clatter. He leaned back against his chair, patting his stomach.

"Someone sure enjoyed their dessert," Lana teased, leaning over and stealing a piece of an uneaten brownie on his plate.

"And someone sure enjoys eating off of me instead of eating their own dessert." Clark picked up his fork and reclaimed his brownie.

Lana pouted playfully. "Hey, it wasn't like you were going to eat it anyway."

"Be nice," Martha called from the sink, smiling to herself.

Jonathon noticed the smirk on his wife's face and shook his head. If he didn't know any better, he would say that she was actually rooting for the two of them to get together.

"What?" Martha challenged her husband.

"Nothing, dear." He continued to dry the dishes with the rag that had been thrown at him earlier by his wife. Once the dishes had been dried off, both he and Martha announced that they were hitting the sack early.

"Don't stay up too late, kids," Martha warned them, following her husband up the stairs.

""Night Martha and Jonathon," Lana said politely.

"'Night Mom. 'Night Dad." Clark called, realizing that he and Lana were completely alone now.

As Lana finished off the last of his sweets, Clark wondered if she was heading off to bed soon. Not wanting the evening to end quite yet, he decided to put forth a plan.

"Lana?"

"Yes?"

"Would you care to accompany me outside?"

She laughed at his British accent. "Sure." She dropped her fork and gracefully stood. Clark couldn't help but gawk at the curves outlined by the modest lavender dress that his mother had been able to dig up.

He followed her out the screen door and took a seat next to her on the porch swing that Grandpa Hiram Kent had constructed himself.

Lana began swinging on the bench and Clark helped her get into a steady rhythm. The creaking of the swing and the chirping of the crickets was their music while the twinkling of the stars in the night sky was their visual pleasure.

"You've changed."

"Have I?"

Lana nodded; her gaze still on the heavens. "You're different."

"I hope it's in a good way."

"It is." There was a pause before she went on. "You still have the weight of the world on your shoulders...but it's different. It's like...you can handle it now. It doesn't scare you anymore."

"I never realized that it did," he said thoughtfully.

"How about me? Have I changed?"

He shook his head. "You're still the same as I remembered you. Headstrong, independent, and as beautiful as ever."

She smiled, knowing that he was sincere in his words. "Clark?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you think of Jason?"

Instead of answering right away, he looked to the night sky, seemingly certain that it would have the answers he was looking for. "Well...he treats you well, doesn't he?"

She nodded, hands folded in her lap. "I can tell that you don't like him very much."

He shifted uncomfortably. "It doesn't really matter what I think, does it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Do you love him?" He knew that he had asked this question before, but he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to her answer.

"I really do love him. Believe me, I do. It's just..."

"What?" he prodded. There was something in her voice...something that told him that she wasn't entirely sure.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm marrying the right man. I mean, I know that he loves me, but...something's missing."

Clark nodded. They hit a lull in the conversation, allowing the crickets to fill it.

"Clark?"

"Yeah?"

"Fill me in on the past ten years."

"Starting from when?"

"The day you left Smallville," Lana said quietly.

He remembered that day well. "Jor-El told me to travel the planet...learn as much as I could about the human race. So, I did. For two years."

"Where did you go?"

"Mostly to rural places that needed rebuilding. I helped one village in Nigeria rebuild after a fire and in Cambodia I lived with a farmer and his wife for a couple of months. I helped them with the harvest. I never did stay in one place for too long, though. I kept bouncing around."

"That's amazing, Clark. Getting to help all those people."

"It was... You know, all this time I thought that Jor-El wanted me to conquer this planet, but he actually wanted me to protect it from evil."

"That's where Superman came in?" she asked.

He nodded. "Mom made the costume...and well, you helped with the name."

_Clark awoke to a strange, but pleasurable tickling sensation on his bare chest. He opened his eyes halfway, enough to see her fingers tracing circles on his chest._

_"Lana, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice coming out as a rasp from not having spoken for a few hours._

_Her fingers stopped their movement and in the faint moonlight, he could see her smiling. "Nothing, Clark. Go back to sleep."_

_"Can't. I'm awake...we might as well continue what we were doing earlier," Clark whispered devilishly in her ear. He rolled over so that he was above her, careful to place most of his weight on his elbows._

_Lana gave him a sleepy smile and reached up to play with his dark curls at the base of head. "Maybe later, my Superman."_

_"Superman, huh?" He gently rolled off of her and leaned back against the covers._

_Lana snuggled up against him, letting his hands roam underneath the blankets. "Yes, Superman."_

"I remember that night," Lana said coyly. "You're parents were out of town in Grandville for a farmer's market. We had the whole house to ourselves."

"I can't believe you remember that," Clark confessed.

"Why wouldn't I? You obviously remembered."

"Good point." Clark grinned as she scooted closer to him, looping her arm through his. "What about you? What have you been up to for the past ten years?"

"I went to Met U...got a degree in modern art. And...here I am five years later."

"Do you still paint?"

"No...I stopped years ago."

"Why?"

"I don't know..." Lana said truthfully. "I remember I used to love doing it. Sitting near the window all day and just painting."

He smiled, memories flooding back to him. "Why don't you start again?"

"I can't... I haven't picked up a brush in years."

"It doesn't matter, Lana. Talent isn't something that you can learn from school or from a book. You have to be born with it. And I know that you have talent."

"How can you be so sure?" Lana asked; her gaze on him.

"Because I believe in you. I still have them...you're sketches and paintings that you gave me."

She smiled, content with his answer.

"Lana, do you regret coming out here to Smallville with me?"

Lana gazed at him, his eyes full of adoration for her. She knew that he still loved her. The question was, did she?

"No, I don't," she said quietly, leaning against him.

The two sat out there on the porch for what seemed like eternity, but for the two former lovers, it was only a fleeting moment of their lifetime.


	8. Perfectly Content

Jason Teague sat at his European finished desk in the apartment that he shared with his fiancée. He sucked on a cigarette, inhaling the poisonous chemicals. He had never been much of a smoker, only resorting to the nasty habit when stressed. But for the past two weeks, Jason Teague had been nothing but stressed. Even his clients at the office had noticed his anxiety and his tension headaches. Just yesterday he had blown up at a client because he wasn't cooperating.

Leave it to a convicted murderer to do that to him.

Jason leaned back in his plush chair, reaching for another cigarette in the half empty box of smokes. He fumbled for his lighter in the breast pocket of his tailored Gucci suit. Once it had been lit, he let out an audible sigh.

After a few minutes, he sat up straighter, picking up a framed photo sitting on his desk. He traced the outline of the woman with his fingertips, closing his eyes.

"Where are you, Lana?"

* * *

Lana Lang strolled alongside Main Street, perfectly content with who she was and where she was. Ever since that night out on the porch with Clark two weeks ago, Lana was feeling much happier and rejuvenated than she had for the past year. Ever since Jason had proposed to her, it had all been a whirlwind of deadlines, dress fittings, and business parties. There had been no time to breathe or relax.

Being in Smallvile really put life in perspective for her, she decided. Here, there were no deadlines, dress fittings, or business parties. Here, everyone followed their own schedule, ate their hearts out, and threw intimate bashes instead of extravagant ones. Small-town life was simpler and the pace was less hectic than city life. It was one of the many reasons that Lana missed Smallville.

As Lana passed the ice cream parlor that was near the post office, she waved at post man Ed Ross who had been delivering Smallville's mail for at least three decades. As she recalled, Ed was Pete Ross's great uncle from his mother's side.

Lana contemplated sitting down and having some ice cream, but decided against it. Her petite figure had taken quite a beating with all of Martha Kent's home cooking and delectable sweets. Besides, she had a $5,000 wedding gown waiting for her back in Metropolis.

Of course, Lana wasn't even entirely sure if she was getting married next month. She hadn't heard a word from Jason since that fateful night that she happened to wander into Clark's apartment. Maybe it was a good thing. Ever since she had arrived in Smallville, she had been thinking less and less about Jason and concentrating more on the handsome farm boy that had stolen her heart years ago.

Since that night on the porch, Lana was fully convinced that she was no longer in love with the memory of the eighteen-year-old Clark Kent. Instead, she had fallen in love with the real thing. Neither a memory nor a dream.

Lana was certain that Clark felt the same way about her. The way that he gazed at her from across a room when he thought that she wasn't watching...his vivid blue eyes that filled with adoration every time he glanced her way...his hand gestures and body movements. Just thinking about it made her shiver unconsciously in the bright spring sun.

But what could she do about it? Even if she were to admit to herself that she were attracted to Clark in more than a friendly way, she was engaged. That hard, cold fact and her diamond engagement ring always brought her back to her senses. Clark also seemed to realize this as he hadn't even attempted to put a move on her for the past two weeks that they had been in Smallville.

However, the real question that Lana had to ask herself was, did she really want a romantic relationship with Clark Kent again? Forget the engagement ring, the $5,000 wedding gown, or even Jason. If those things were insignificant, did she really want to get involved romantically with Clark? That was a question that she had been asking herself throughout high school and it wasn't until her senior year that she finally took a chance. In the end, although it was a bittersweet moment, Clark had left.

Lana took a shaky breath, the blaring of a horn taking her back to the present. She was leaning against a mailbox outside of...The Talon! Lana readjusted her purse on her shoulder and fixed the strap of her sapphire dress that she had borrowed from Martha.

She pulled open the door of the coffee shop and stepped inside. The first thing that she noticed upon entry was that the place had changed from an Egyptian styled coffee house to a modern black and white themed bookstore café. The ceiling was painted a black finish with the tables mirroring the same color. The floor and walls were a blinding white and the photos hanging on the walls followed the same theme.

Lana wanted to applaud the designer for the very chic design and at the same time, she wanted to cry for her Egyptian design that she had poured many late hours into.

After a few minutes, the initial shock wore off and Lana cautiously approached the counter. When she was close enough, a freckled, red-headed girl turned around, sending her a courteous smile.

"Hi, how can I help you?"

"Oh...I was wondering if I could talk to the manager," Lana blurted out, not sure where she was going with this.

"You're talking to her." Although the smile was still on her face, the red head looked confused.

"I was just wondering...what happened to the Egyptian décor that used to be here?"

"Well...when my dad bought the place, we decided to tear down the décor. It needed something more modern. So, we put in a mini book store."

"Black and white never does seem to go out of style, does it?"

"No, it doesn't." The girl grinned and pointed to a tray of scones. "Would you like some scones? Fresh out of the oven."

"Sure." Lana began digging in her purse for some change. "Could I also have a double espresso with that?"

"Of course."

As the girl placed two scones in a small paper bag, Lana took her time looking around the shop.

"Here ya go. That's $7.25."

Not nearly as expensive as the coffee and scones in Metropolis, so Lana wasn't complaining. "Thanks." She handed the girl the money in exchange for her coffee and scones.

"Can I help you with anything else?" the red head asked when she noticed that Lana was still standing there.

"I was just wondering...about the paintings that used to be on that far wall over there." Lana waved her hand in that direction.

The girl squinted, obviously thinking hard. "I remember them coming with the place...but my dad and I never found a place for them. I think we auctioned them off a couple of years ago in Metropolis."

Saddened by the news, Lana nodded. "Well, thanks for your time."

"Any time. Have a good day."

Lana exited the coffee house and took a seat on a bench outside of the barber shop, finishing off her scones and coffee. She wished that Clark could have been able to come out with her today, but he was in Metropolis, patrolling the skies as Superman. He had promised her that he would be off by dinner, but crime didn't cease to exist by dinner. If possible, it grew worse.

Martha and Jonathon Kent were in Grandville, attending a farmer's market. Although the market lasted only one day, Martha and Jonathon had decided to rent out a cabin up there for a getaway weekend. Martha had insisted that Lana and Clark come along, but Clark had declined with the excuse that he needed to take care of a few things before Pete's wedding that was in a week. Lana hadn't wanted to intrude either, so she had declined the offer as well.

After finishing off the last of the scones, Lana threw the cup and paper bag into a garbage bin and pondered where to go next. She needed to pick up a few things at the market for dinner, but it was too early for that. Instead, Lana wondered about Clark's twenty-eighth birthday that was coming up next week.

She considered going into the Talon again to browse the book shelves for a suitable birthday present, but decided against it. She wanted to get him something special...something that would make up for the past birthdays that she had missed.

Lana straightened her dress and brushed off the crumbs that the scones had left. Deciding that she would worry about the present later, she headed in the direction of the small market on the corner of Main Street.

She grabbed a small shopping basket on her way in, noticing that it resembled a picnic basket rather than the usual red or blue plastic ones. While some parts of Smallville had entered the new century along with the rest of the world, most of Smallville had decided that it didn't need fancy billboards or endorsements by celebrities to bring its tourists in. The homey atmosphere and small-town feel was what attracted most people. Of course, the meteor rocks and constant uprising of meteor freaks also helped with the tourism.

Lana roamed the aisles of the small market, taking her time looking for the items on her list. The place was more of a convenience store rather than a well-stocked market, but she wasn't expecting an Albertsons like in Metropolis.

Twice, Lana had to pass the arts and crafts aisle to find pasta for the lasagna she was making tonight. As she passed the aisle again for the third time to find some frozen chicken, she paused, staring at the mediocre art supplies.

Mediocre or not, they were something. Lana gingerly picked up a pack of pastels and placed them in her shopping basket. After some more contemplating, she grabbed a set of water colors and a small roll of easel paper.

After paying for the items, Lana left the store, heading for the Kent family truck that Clark had insisted she take into town for the day since he would be in Metropolis.

Lana placed the grocery bag on the passenger seat next to her and slid in, starting up the engine.

Once she arrived at the familiar farm house, Lana immediately started to prepare dinner, noticing the time. After she set the timer and placed the lasagna in the oven, she grabbed her personal purchases and exited the house. Hoping that she wouldn't burn the food, Lana headed for the loft, knowing that Clark wouldn't mind at all.

After arranging Clark's desk so that it faced the window, she took a seat and laid out her materials. In the west, the sun was starting to set, casting an orange and red glow on Lana and the loft.

Lana took a deep breath and timidly picked up a pastel. She was surprised to find how easy the lines, shapes, and colors came out. After familiarizing herself with the technique, Lana ripped out a fresh sheet of easel paper from the roll and attempted a harder project.

She was so immersed at the task at hand that she nearly jumped when she heard a voice behind her.

"Clark!" She whipped around, dropping the red pastel. "You scared me."

He simply grinned, still in his Superman costume. "I went by the house, but you weren't there. I started to worry, but then I realized that were around here somewhere since you left the lasagna in the oven."

"I completely forgot about dinner," she confessed. "Did you turn the oven off?"

He nodded. "I'm going to change real quick. Be back in a second."

All Lana saw was a blur of red and blue before Clark stood before her in a white tee and jeans.

"You clean up fast," she joked as he pulled up a chair next to her. Lana instinctively covered what she had been working on.

"Were you painting?" Clark asked, trying to get her to lift her arms from the canvas.

"No, but pretty close to it."

He smiled, noticing the way the setting sun cast its light on her facial features. "I'm glad you started again."

"Me too." Lana turned the paper over and rolled it up carefully, setting it aside. She studied his face for a moment. "What happened to your glasses?"

"Oh, I don't wear them when I come into Smallville. No one really recognizes me here. They just see me as Martha and Jonathon Kent's son."

Lana nodded, understanding this. "So, how was your day?"

"Mine?"

She nodded again.

Clark sighed. "I found out from the chief of the fire department that a kid died last night in an apartment fire."

Immediately reading his mind, Lana took his hand. "You can't save everyone, Clark."

"I know... It's just, if I had been there..."

"But you weren't." She squeezed his hand. "I know that it's a horrible death, but Superman needs a break, too, don't you think?"

He looked down at their joined hands. "Yeah. I guess so. Thanks, Lana."

"No problem."

"Lana?"

"Yes?" she sang.

His thumb rubbed her hand nervously. "I was wondering if we could do something tomorrow."

"Like what?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure yet."

"Sounds like a plan." She smiled, showing him her dimples. "C'mon, let's go eat." She stood up and tugged on his hand.

"I'll be down in a few minutes."

Lana gave him a curious expression, but didn't question him. She slowly removed her hand from his grasp, descending the steps.

Clark watched her leave, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. Once she had disappeared from sight, he turned toward the window, smiling to himself.

The past two weeks had been a blessing, a gift from the heavens. Over the course of the past two weeks, he and Lana had bonded, shared their laughter and their thoughts. Although Clark was almost certain that Lana had developed some feelings for him, he hadn't pushed, allowing her to sort out her own feelings for Jason and for him first. He was glad that had waited, for he could see the appreciation in her eyes, thanking him for not pushing.

Though, as Clark stood there, gazing at the fiery, reddish sun, he had doubts about what would happen next. What if Lana didn't have feelings for him and he was just kidding himself? What if Jason showed up on the doorstep tomorrow? Would she go with him or stay?

Something inside of him told him that she would probably go. Jason was safe, an anchor. Jason wouldn't set sail at any second without her.

Clark had known Lana all his life, better than anyone else. He knew that she was scared; scared of entering a romantic relationship with him. He didn't blame her, though. He just wished that he knew how to show her...tell her that he would never dare to cause her pain again. He was fully committed this time. This time, destiny wasn't calling out for him, ready to envelope him into its wings. No, Clark had dealt with that mess already.

He stood there for quite some time before turning away from the window, the rays of the fading sun shining on the back of his white tee. As he made his way toward the house, he noticed the kitchen lights on, a shadow at the sink. Smiling to himself, he paused in his steps, hands in his pockets. It was amazing how just a shadow of her could make his entire day.

Deciding that he just didn't want a shadow, he continued toward the house, admiring the sound of her voice that was singing along with the radio. Although she was out of tune and couldn't hit the high notes very well, Clark was never more certain that it was the most beautiful sound his ears had ever picked up.

_psst...hit the purple button_


	9. Memories Under the Oak Tree

Thanks for reading.

* * *

The next morning, Lana awoke to the aroma of fresh coffee filtering in from downstairs. It took her a moment to adjust to the blinding, morning Kansas sun seeping in through the drawn plaid curtains of the room. She breathed in Clark's masculine scent that had so stubbornly clung on to the room even after his departure from the farm.

The smell of freshly brew coffee was to be her defeat, as Lana rolled over, facing the night stand. She smiled lazily as she noticed a bouquet of lavender irises sitting on it, seemingly covered by morning dew. She slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

Lana breathed in the fresh scent of the flowers, and gingerly picked up the letter left lying next to it.

_My Dearest Lana,_

_As I write this to you, you are safely tucked into the warmth of flannel sheets, slumbering peacefully. I guess that our long night last night tired you out. I'm sorry if that's the case...but I can't help it. I enjoy talking to you...sitting with you...listening with you. It's these moments that I live for..._

_I asked you last evening if we could do something today. The truth is...I've been planning this day for quite a while. I miss your company, your laughter, and your inspiring words. A few nights sharing memories with you isn't enough for me anymore._

_There's so much more that I have to say to you, but for now, this is it. The rest will come later._

_I'll be waiting,_

_Clark_

_P.S. Dress casually...and bring along the bouquet._

Only Clark Kent could leave such cryptic messages in the late morning, Lana thought, smiling. She carefully folded the note up and placed it back on the nightstand, along with the bouquet, which had nine irises.

After contemplating about what Clark meant by casual, Lana decided to go with the jeans that she had originally worn to Smallville and the white and pink blouse that she had been wearing. She then ran a brush through her hair, weaving it into two loose braids fairly quickly. Once she had finished changing, she made a trip to the bathroom down the hall to freshen up before heading downstairs.

The smell of coffee beans was even stronger in the kitchen. Lana couldn't help but breathe in the invigorating scent as she helped herself to a cup of coffee. There was another note left lying next to the coffee pot.

_Lana,_

_Thought that you'd like some coffee to wake you up. It's your favorite...mocha with a sprinkle of cinnamon in it. Don't be too surprised that I remember it...after all, who was the one that was practically kicked out of bed on the third Sunday morning of every month to make it?_

_Clark_

_P.S. Look outside. Your ride awaits you._

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she finished the note. He never seized to amaze her.

On the third Sunday of every month, both Jonathon and Martha Kent would head out for Grandville for the annual farmer's market where they met with friends and associates. Lana remembered how they would stay up late, waiting for his parents to fall asleep. Then, they would sneak up to Clark's room and make love until the wee hours of the morning, knowing that his parents would be out of the house by six and back at 9 at night. She and Clark would then proceed to stay in bed all day, with the satisfaction that they wouldn't be caught.

Ignoring the growling sensation in her stomach, Lana hurried to the door where she slipped out a pair of beat-up sneakers that Martha had been kind enough to lend her. The screen door shut behind her, the noise concealing her gasp of surprise and excitement.

A white mare was waiting for her at the bottom of the porch steps, its reins tied to the porch railing to prevent it from roaming. She cautiously approached and stroked the mare's head, getting a soft neigh in response. She hadn't ridden a horse in years...not since her leg had gotten trampled by that horse in her junior year of high school. She had never bothered to try again after that.

There was a note attached to the saddle and she perused it quickly before mounting the mare. She was a bit rusty at riding, but just like painting, her talent had never truly faded.

* * *

Clark glanced up as heard the trotting of horse hooves. He scrambled to his feet, an iris in one hand. He grinned when he noticed the glow on her face, having seen the picnic set up by him.

"Hey," she greeted quietly. She had brought along the bouquet just as he had asked and after dismounting ever so gracefully, she held it out for him to take.

Clark inserted the last iris into the self-made bouquet and handed it back to her. "An iris for every year we've been apart."

A smile graced her features as she accepted the bouquet from him. "Thank you." She figured the deep purple tissue paper that he had used to wrapped around the flower stems. After a moment in thought, she looked up, her head turned in the direction of the picnic.

Clark looked behind his shoulder, then back to her. "Want some breakfast?"

"It's technically brunch now, since it's past noon." She brushed past him, making sure to touch his arm briefly. The touch itself was electrifying, but the action was a wakeup call for the both of them. This day, this moment, this second...all were opportunities that would slip past like sand in an hourglass, if neither one of them acted. Whatever force that drove them apart, it had brought them back together.

And as Clark stood there, watching her start on the mini sandwiches that he had whipped up, he realized that he could either act now, or lose her forever. How long would it be until Jason was knocking at the door? It had probably been two weeks since their arrival to Smallville. It wouldn't be long until history repeated itself and one of them bolted out of fear of pain and rejection.

"Are you going to join me, or are you going to stand there until pigs start flying over our heads?" Lana called from the plaid blanket that Clark he laid out over the lush emerald grass.

He smiled and made his way over to her, taking a seat to the left of her. Once he had settled down, Lana orchestrated an intimate position, climbing on top of his lap and leaning against his chest.

He recalled the last time that they had been in this position, under this very oak tree. It was the day before he had left to fulfill his destiny. Clark had carved a heart with their initials into the base of the tree with his heat vision.

As if reading his mind, Lana spoke up. "Do you think it's still here?"

He didn't need to ask to what she was referring to. Lana gently scooted off his lap and stood up, brushing bread crumbs off of her blouse. Clark followed suit, and soon the two were examining the bark of the tree.

Lana traced her fingers over the rough exterior, hoping that she would find a groove. Her breath caught as she paused and squinted at the trunk.

"Clark, I think I found it," she breathed, tracing the heart with her fingertips.

He hurried over and stood over her shoulder. _CK loves LL_.

Memories of a past life were flooding back to him as he stood behind the love of his life. Their first kiss...their first time making love...their first moments. Most remembered the firsts, but what about the lasts? The last kiss...the last time he held her hands...the last he felt her naked skin against his. Weren't they as significant?

He watched as she bent down to the very root of the majestic oak tree and reached her hand into a hollow hole of the trunk. Carefully, she pulled out a wooden box with two carved entwined swans on it. He had given that box to her on her 18th birthday. It was meant as a jewelry box, to hold precious metals and gems, and other sentiments of the heart. Instead, it had acted as a box of the future, holding hopes and dreams. He remembered the day clearly when they had found the hole in the trunk and decided to appoint the tree the keeper of their dreams.

_"Are you sure about this Lana?" he asked as she placed a small sheet of stationary with neat cursive curled on top into her box._

_"Don't you want to look back one day and see how life turned out?" Lana asked, handing the box to him._

_"I guess..." He pulled out her predictions and fingered it. "I'm just a little scared of what I might find in the future."_

_"Isn't everyone?" she asked, snatching her paper back before he got a chance to read it. "C'mon, Clark. Don't you want to come back here ten years from now and open this box with me?"_

_"If I had it my way, there would be no need for this box because every one of my predictions would be true," Clark said, as he placed his paper into the box, along with hers._

_Lana simply gave him a quick kiss on the cheek to keep him from whining as she closed the box and tucked it into the tree trunk._

_"There." She stood up and brush dirt off of her hands. "Now, promise me that we will open this box together."_

_"That shouldn't be hard to keep since I'm not planning on going anywhere." He wrapped his arms around her petite waist and gave her right ear a loving nuzzle._

"I can't believe that it's still here," Lana whispered, looking up at Clark.

"Open it," he urged her gently.

Slowly, but surely, she lifted the lid with the swans off. Their predictions were still inside, albeit yellow.

"C'mon." Clark took her hand and led her around the tree, back to the picnic blanket. He sat down with her in between his legs.

Lana slowly lifted the first sheet of stationary out. He could tell by the neat cursive that it was hers. She began reading aloud.

"Clark and I--okay, well, _I _suggested that we write down predictions or hopes that we have for the next ten years. Clark didn't seem that into it, but I managed to sway him." She paused and Clark could tell by the slight blush that she was also recalling her powers of persuasion that she had used the night before their venture out into the meadow.

"Here are my predictions for the future. They may seem naïve and childish when I look back on them ten years from now, but I hope that at least one of them will happen."

Lana paused again. Clark could feel her shaking in his arms slightly. He tenderly urged her to continue.

"In four years from now, I will have graduated from Central Kansas, with a degree in humanities or maybe art. Clark will have gone to Central Kansas as well and he will be standing next to me in the procession because of our last names.

In six years from now, Clark and I will have moved to Metropolis. We will have an apartment overlooking the lake with Waterport City in the distance, on the other side."

At this point, Lana's voice had begun to shake so bad, that Clark had to pour a cup of warm coffee from the thermos that he had stuffed in the picnic basket.

"It's okay, Lana. You don't have to continue," he said softly, pushing the styrofoam cup into her hands.

She took a sip from the cup before shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I just..." she trailed off, not really knowing how to explain it.

Clark began gathering up the papers, but Lana put her hand on his.

"No...I want you to read it. Pick up from where I left off," she said, her voice barely audible.

Before he could protest, she stuffed the predictions into his hands. The haunted expression on her face made him want to tear apart these papers, but he knew that she wanted him to continue.

"In seven years from now, Clark will be writing for the Daily Planet while I'll be working in an art gallery in downtown Metropolis.

In ten years from now..." Clark paused and looked down at Lana before continuing. "In ten years from now, I will be married to Clark Kent."

A lump formed in his throat as he slowly folded up the sheet of paper and placed it back into the box with his own predictions. Alarmed at the sniffle that suddenly sounded, he glanced down.

Lana was furiously rubbing at her eyes. They were downcast, avoiding his own.

"Don't cry, Lana. I hate it when you cry."

She mumbled something and quickly pushed herself off his lap.

Clark's brows knitted in confusion as he watched her get up and walk swiftly away. "Lana..."

He scrambled to his feet and raced to her side, gently grabbing her hand and spinning her around. Instead of allowing him to comfort her like she usually did, she recoiled, pulling her hand away as if bitten by a venomous snake.

"Why didn't you come back? You promised me that you would," she whispered. Although her voice was barely above a whisper, her tone and expression was enough for him to jump as if she had slapped him. Clark would have liked a slap instead of the sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach and the dead weight on his chest.

"I know."

"Did you just expect me to forget and forgive? That everything would be hunky dory in the end?" Her voice was rising and there were angry tears in her eyes, threatening to spill.

Clark bowed his head, remaining silent. He knew that he deserved every word that was coming out of her mouth right now. He had made her a promise, and he had broken it, just like the many other promises that he had made. Lana had let him slide on so many others...but not this one. No matter how much he had intended to keep his promise on that day, he knew that it was a mistake. It was that promise that had haunted him for the past ten years.

"I waited for you..." She was sobbing hard now. "I spent eight years waiting for you. Did you know that the first time Jason proposed to me was the year after I had graduated from Met U? I said 'no', that time, still clinging on to hope that you would come back. But you didn't.

You promised me that day...you promised that you would come back to me. You fed me lies of a romantic wedding under our tree and you told me about the kids that we would have." Lana faltered, sobs wrecking her body. When there was no response from him, she spat out, "Well, say something!"

He swallowed the lump in his throat, daring himself to lift his eyes to meet hers. "Lana...I'm sorry. If I could take it all back...everything...I would."

"But you can't, can you?" She asked quietly. In the treetops, birds were chirping happily, completely obvious to the situation taking place below them.

"Lana..."

"We could have been married by now...with kids, even," she breathed, her tears sparkling under the Kansas sun.

"Lana...you know that I can't give you everything that Jason can give you," Clark admitted. "I can't buy you a $5000 gown or a $10,000 engagement ring."

Her nostrils flared up, her eyes riveted on him. "Do you honestly think that I care about that? Is that how shallow you see me?"

"No! I'm just saying..." Clark closed his eyes and took a breath, stepping closer to her. When he opened his eyes, her angelic face was mere inches away from his. "Lana...I can't buy you expensive jewelry or clothes. I can only give you my heart." He took her hand and placed it over his beating heart.

She closed her eyes, having calmed down. Finally, she opened her eyes, shining brightly from fresh tears. "Clark...I've spent the past ten years wondering if you still love me. Please don't say you do unless you mean it."

Clark tenderly brushed her tears away with his thumb. Slowly, he bent down, brushing his lips with hers. Their lips tangled, as if they were strangers getting acquainted.

Although both of them knew that their next actions were irrational and immoral, their hearts deemed it appropriate. Soon, their lips and the rest of their body found itself tangled up in Clark's boyhood comforter.

"I love you, Lana," Clark breathed in her ear, his fingers tangled in her hair.

Lana opened her eyes until they were mere slits, her greenish hazel eyes staring up at him. "I love you, too, Clark." She lifted a hand to stroke his handsome, boyish face, tracing the lines of concentration as he moved above her.

He buried his head into the crook of her head, simply enjoying her naked skin underneath his. He knew that once their reason and logic returned to them, they would need to have a talk. But for now, he concentrated on making love to the woman that had haunted him for the past ten years of his life.

_psst...don't forget to leave a review_


	10. Flying

Clark watched as Lana drew invisible circles with her fingertips on his bare chest, her raven hair fanned out. He ran a hand through her hair, playing with the long silk-like strands.

He wasn't sure how long they had been in bed. Judging from the waning sunlight, he'd guess five hours. Five hours of relentless love making, familiarizing themselves with each other's physique once again.

Clark had once known every curve, every contour of her body. The slight bruise that remained from a rough tumble from the bed during her childhood...the miniscule mole that rested on her left knee. All these things...memories long forgotten, but never, truly lost.

Just like their love for each other.

Clark pressed the palm of his hand against the curve of her spine, as if ensuring himself that this was indeed, real. They lay there for what seemed like an eternity, but in actuality, it was only a fragment of their lifetime.

Over the course of the morning, however, Clark began to notice a change in Lana's demeanor. She had stopped caressing his chest and her smile had been wiped off, as if it were never there.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, eyes fixed on her troubled expression.

"Clark..." She sat up, bringing the sheet with her, covering her breasts. "We need to talk."

Clark sat up as well. "I know we do, Lana."

"Then let's talk right now."

"Now?" He swallowed, lowering his eyes.

"Yes. Now." Although she had spoken softly, he caught the firmness behind her words.

"There's no way that I will be able to convince you to wait a few hours, huh?" he asked, half joking.

She smiled, reaching for his hand. "Clark, the longer we put this conversation off, the longer we wait until we can be together."

"Aren't we together now?"

"Yes...but..." she paused, squeezing his hand. "Clark, don't you want us to be together? Without any secrets or...people between us?"

"Of course I do," he replied softly. Resolved, he sighed, giving her the okay to press on.

"Clark, why didn't you come back for me?" she asked, watching him cower from under her gaze.

"Lana, you have to understand...I had just finished my training like Jor-El wanted me to. I didn't have any contact with anyone for two whole years. Not my parents, not even you. When I came back, I was stunned at how much the world had..."

"Changed?" she finished for him.

He shook his head. "No. How much the world hadn't changed. I mean, Smallville was still completely the same. The farm, my parents were still the same. It didn't even seem like my departure had affected them in any way. Dad was still running the farm and Mom still did volunteer work at the community center."

It was Lana's turn to shake her head. "Clark, that's not true. Your parents...I kept in touch with them. They _tried_ to move on without you, hoping that you would come back soon. Your dad...he kept himself busy by working on the farm, keeping his thoughts off of you. Your mother did the same as well. She was heartbroken, Clark. I visited her a few times from Metropolis and she...she just wasn't the same. There was no smell of cookies or muffins for two years. There was no one to eat them."

Clark cracked a smile at that. "That explains why Mom went on a baking frenzy when I returned."

She laughed, squeezing her hand and wiping away the tears that had formed. From joy or from sorrow, she wasn't sure. "I missed you, too, Clark. When you left, I wasn't the same. I kept hoping that you would show up in my dorm room at Met U."

Clark lowered his eyes, guilt coursing throughout his veins. "Lana, I love you so much. I didn't know what I would do with myself if you had moved on without me."

"But I didn't," she reassured him, forcing him to look at him. "Clark, when I told you about the first time Jason proposed to me, I refused because my heart was with you. And it still is."

That seemed to comfort him. "I really am sorry, Lana... I don't know what else to say to convince that I am."

She glanced away, sighing. "I forgave you a long time ago, Clark. I guess that I just needed to hear it from you."

Clark brought up a hand to cup her chin, turning her head to look at him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For giving me a second chance." He placed his hands on the small of her back and pulled her to him, the sheet covering her slipping slightly. His lips brushed against hers sweetly, their lips mingling.

Lana pulled away once Clark's hand slipped under the sheets, sneaking toward her thigh. "Clark," she said in mock disapproval.

He simply grinned. "So, Lana, does this mean that you'll be my date for Pete's wedding next week?"

She smiled, her dimples showing. "Of course. As long as you can get out of best man duties toward the end of the ceremony. I want to give you your birthday present."

"My birthday present, huh?"

She nodded, leaning against him, letting the sheet slip lower. "Don't expect me to drop any hints about it either."

Clark chuckled, kissing the top of her head. Outside, birds were serenading them, reminding them that the day had started long ago. As if on cue, Lana's stomach began to make rumbling sounds like the tractor did on the days that it wouldn't start.

"How 'bout I bring you breakfast in bed?" he suggested.

"Mmm...that sounds good." She leaned back against the covers, pulling the comforter over her body. "Don't forget my coffee."

Clark smiled, slipping on his boxers. He bent down to give her a quick kiss before heading downstairs.

Downstairs, he rummaged through the fridge, in search of something that would do for breakfast. He pushed aside the plate of leftover lasagna, hunting for bacon strips. Once he had them sizzling on a pan over the stove, he decided to try his hand at baking, using the pre-made biscuits that his mother had left for them in the freezer.

He then started the coffee machine, keeping his eyes on the bacon and biscuits. Once the food was finished preparing, he piled everything on a tray, along with a bowl of fresh fruit.

Lana was still lounging in bed when he returned. To his disappointment, she had slipped on a robe.

"And I thought you were kitchen illiterate," she teased as he set the tray on her lap.

"Looks like all those years, I finally picked up something from my mom," Clark joked, watching her pop a grape into her mouth.

"Speaking of your parents, when are they coming back?" Lana handed him a biscuit, seeing that he was too preoccupied watching her eat.

"Tomorrow evening. Dad called yesterday morning while you were still asleep. Said that he and Mom were going to see this nature exhibit before they headed out of Grandville."

"Nature exhibit? That sounds intriguing." She set the tray on the bed, careful not to spill the two mugs of steaming coffee. The aroma of cinnamon wafted out of the mugs, filling the room of the sweet scent.

"Yeah...although I'm not sure what kind of nature they can see out in Grandville besides deer, raccoons, and skunks." He laughed she smacked him playfully on the chest.

"Maybe it's not the nature that they want to see...maybe they want to spend some quality time together," Lana said thoughtfully, taking a sip of the coffee.

"Well, for whatever reason for the exhibit, I think that we should make the most of the time that we have alone before tomorrow evening," Clark said as he carefully picked up the half-eaten breakfast and set it on the nightstand. He gently lowered Lana's petite body further under the comforter before lowering himself on top, careful not to crush her.

"What about Superman?" she breathed as he trailed kisses down her neck. She felt him pause in his actions, torn between his duty as the protector of Metropolis and his love for her.

"Superman can take a break, can't he? Besides, he's been deprived of other things for the past ten years. Things that he'd like to make up now."

Lana smiled as his lips reached hers, tantalizing them with his small pecks. "Clark?"

He pulled back a bit. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I love you, too. I always have."

The two lovers continued their affair of love making, unaware that in the depths of the city, another man's love would soon interfere.

* * *

Lana pulled her legs up and onto the porch swing as she immersed herself in a novel. She had found it lying on the coffee table in the living area, neglected like a lost puppy. Knowing that Martha wouldn't mind, she had decided to embark on a journey through its yellowed pages, hoping to pass time until Clark returned.

A little that past seven that evening, Clark's super hearing had kicked in, allowing him to hear someone calling for help in Metropolis. To her urging, he had rushed off, donning the familiar red and blue costume.

Lana had spooned the remainders of their dinner onto a plate and placed it in the fridge before taking care of the dishes. It wasn't long before she found herself outside, the creaks of the old swing keeping her company as she allowed herself to drift away from reality through the pages of the old book.

She smiled, finding it ironic that the female character in the book was in the same dilemma as her. Torn between her love for two men; each love as different as could be, but still special in their own way.

Lana sighed. "Maybe I can learn a thing or two from this book," she said aloud.

"Learn what?" a voice inquired.

"Clark!" She snapped the book shut and stood as he came out from the fading sunlight and onto the porch. She noticed the way that his Superman costume showed off his chest and biceps quite nicely.

Clark, having noticed her staring, said, "I'll go change." A second later, he was standing before her in a blue tee and jeans. He strode over to her and kissed her sweetly on the lips before taking a seat on the bench. "What were you reading?"

Lana took a seat next to him, leaning against his shoulder. "Just a book that I found lying around. Nothing special." Changing the subject, she asked, "What happened in Metropolis?"

"Oh, some guy robbed the bank and then hijacked someone's car," he said bitterly, his expression forlorn. "The cry for help that I heard was the owner of the car. I got there just in time to bring him to the hospital."

"You saved his life," she said proudly.

"Yeah...but I didn't catch the robber."

"Hey, don't beat yourself up," Lana said firmly, turning his face to make him look at her. "You saved someone's life and because of that, he'll be able to see his friends and family again."

Clark sighed, kissing her on the forehead. "I can't help it. When I was in training, Jor-El told me that I was supposed to help people better themselves and prevent earth from becoming like Krypton before its final days. He told me that Krypton was in ruins before it was destroyed. There was famine, war, and hatred everywhere."

Lana frowned, mulling over everything that he just told her. "Clark, that may be true, but you are making a difference now. Just being there, as a symbol of good and justice. It gives people, especially kids someone to look up to, a role model. I have no doubt that you'll have made an impact on society."

"You're amazing, you know that?" He smiled, catching her eye.

They fell into a lull of comfortable silence, both enjoying the other's company. Beyond the confines of the porch, crickets were crawling out, ready to sing their song to the night sky. It was long after the last ray of light had given way to darkness that one of them spoke.

"Lana?"

"Hmm?" she replied softly, lying in his arms.

"I want to show you something. C'mon." He gently nudged her off his chest and stood from the swing. She followed suit, wondering what surprises he had in store.

Clark took her hands and led her to the bottom of the porch steps. With a swift movement, he tenderly scooped her up in his arms, holding her securely.

Lana, suspecting what his next move would be, kept quiet. A moment or two later, his feet left the ground, the night sky spread out in front of them, like an endless sea.

"Clark," she whispered, his breath tickling her cheek. "We're flying." Cautiously, she peaked at the ground below them. They were now hovering over the house, the stars and moon filling up half the sky.

"Who would have thought that Clark Kent would have such a keen ability to fly when he was scared of heights?" Lana teased, resting her head on the crook of his neck.

"I never thought that I would see the day where airplanes and skyscrapers wouldn't give me a nauseous feeling."

She laughed, the sound as light and merry as bells. "This is nice...you've never taken me flying before."

"Just nice?" he challenged, putting on a fake-pout.

Lana rolled her eyes playfully before catching his lips in a tender kiss. When she pulled back, she noticed the mischievous spark in his bluish-green eyes.

"Clark, what..." She was cut short by a gust of wind. Her eyes snapped shut, her raven hair blowing everywhere.

"Lana, open your eyes," Clark instructed in her ear.

She did and let out a squeal, realizing that they were flying over stalks of golden cornfield. "Clark, this is unbelievable! I feel like I'm actually flying!"

"And you weren't before?" he bellowed over the roaring of the wind. Although he knew that he could push ahead faster, he held back, knowing that Lana wouldn't be able to withstand the force of the wind.

"Before was amazing, Clark! It was romantic, but this...this is unbelievable!"

Clark chuckled. "Hold on tight, Lana. Maybe we can make it to border of Kansas before you get tired out."

Her laugh and squeals of delight were the only approval that he needed as he concentrated on their goal.

* * *

By the end of the night, Lana's hair looked as if a couple of birds had at pecked and poked at it. To Clark, however, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

"Thanks for the wonderful night, Clark," she whispered against his neck as she stood on her tip toes to hug him. "But I think that I'm going to turn in."

Clark bent down to kiss her on the lips. "I understand. I'll come up in a few moments," he assured her.

Lana gave him another one of her smiles, her dimples visibly showing and her nose crinkling, before disappearing into the yellow farm house.

Clark stood out there, with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, a smile playing on his face, thinking back on the past few days. Things were finally coming together for him and Lana. He couldn't remember that last time that he had been this happy...or this much in love. If anything, his love for her had only grown stronger.

He hoped that she could say the same for him. Earlier that morning, lying in bed, he had noticed that she still wore her engagement ring, a reminder that reality was going to press in or them, soon or later.

"Clark?"

He whipped around. Lana was leaning against the door frame, dressed in one of his flannel shirts. He gulped unconsciously, his eyes traveling down to her shapely thighs.

"Come up now," Lana said softly, a small smile playing on her face. "It's lonely in bed without you."

Clark sighed, grinning at her bashfulness. "Alright."

She repaid him with a kiss as he followed her into the house, shutting the door behind them.


	11. Conversations

Martha sighed as she watched her husband try to heave their luggage up the porch steps. "Jonathon, why don't you just call for Clark? I hate seeing you struggle with the suitcases."

As usual, he ignored her, grunting in frustration. "Martha, I have bailed hay all my life. I think that I can handle a couple of overnight bags."

"Jonathon, you haven't bailed hay for at least five years. The farmhands do that," she stated, watching her husband struggle.

Jonathon grunted again and let her overnight bag drop to the ground. "If it makes you happy, I'll call Clark, then, okay?"

"Be careful not to wake Lana up," Martha reminded him. But it was too late. His calls for Clark had awoken the both of them.

* * *

Upstairs in his boyhood bed, Clark groaned, rolling over. His arm hit something soft and fleshy, a reminder of the night before.

"Ow..." Lana groaned, rubbing her arm. "Are you made of steel or something?"

He winced. "Sorry. Guess I'm not a morning person." He tenderly kissed her arm.

"It's only eight in the morning," she yawned, glancing at the alarm clock. "Considering the night we had, I hadn't expected us to be awake until noon."

Clark grinned, wrapping his arms around her. "Maybe our bodies had other plans."

She smacked him lightly, frowning. "Clark, do you hear something?"

He squinted, a habit of his when concentrating. A moment later, his eyes got as big as saucers.

"My parents are home!" he whispered, throwing the covers off of him, revealing his ungodly male physique to Lana. He wrestled with his boxers and white tee before jumping into his gray sweatpants.

"I thought that they were coming home tonight," Lana said rather confused, watching him pace the room, his fingers in his hair.

"Looks like they lost interest in the nature exhibit," he muttered, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Suddenly, he stood up, turning to face her. "Dad is calling for me."

"Clark, wait," Lana called abruptly, clasping his hand in hers. "Don't tell them, yet. About us, I mean. I don't think that they'd approve and..."

He squeezed her hand. "I won't," he assured her, scooting closer to kiss her on the cheek. "Look, Lana...I've been doing some thinking. I know that the situation that we're in isn't the most ideal, but I just want you to know that I love you. I always will. But if you don't--"

"Clark, I love you, too," Lana interrupted. She slowly pulled her hand away from his, wringing them together. "Believe me, I do. I just...I need time. To sort through everything. My feelings for you...for Jason," she said softly, her gaze on the plaid comforter.

Hearing her mention his name made Clark uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to let her know that. He reached out for her hand again. "Lana, look at me." He cupped her chin and raised it so that she was looking at him. "This decision...it can't be easy for you. But whatever choice you make, we're going to have to live with it for the rest of our lives."

Before Lana could reply, he kissed her passionately on the lips, savoring the taste of her in his mouth.

"I'll be back. Get some sleep." Clark stood and padded toward the door.

* * *

"Clark!" Jonathon called from outside on the porch. He glanced over his shoulder at Martha for an explanation of their son's lack of super hearing this morning.

"Maybe he's sleeping. You know him; he can sleep through anything," she offered.

"Well, let's let him sleep then--" Jonathon began, ready to try to haul the luggage up the stairs. However, Clark emerged right then.

"Son, where were you? I've been calling your name for the past five minutes."

"I was...upstairs. Brushing my teeth," Clark lied, hoping that his breath didn't stink. He bent down to pick up the bags, stacking them on top of each other like they were made out of styrofoam.

"How was your trip?" he asked, making his way instead of the house, dropping the bags on the couch. He was careful to mess up his pillow and blankets a bit to make it seem like he'd actually slept in it.

"Refreshing," Martha answered, putting her arm around her son as he bent down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "It was really nice out in Grandville. The cabin that we rented was one of a kind. There was a stream that ran near it and it was all very beautiful."

"Well, I'm glad that you guys had fun."

"I wished that you and Lana had gone with us," Martha conceded. "You two would have liked it."

"Yeah, and Clark could've helped me catch some more fish with his x-ray vision," Jonathon said jokingly, taking a seat on the couch.

"Your father's still bitter about the lack of fish that he caught," she teased.

Clark laughed, shaking his head. "Maybe they were just hiding from you, Dad."

"Oh, very funny, son."

Martha smiled, enjoying the playful banter that continued between father and son. It had been too long since she'd last heard that noise. "So, how about some breakfast?"

"I'm going to go feed the cows," Jonathon announced, standing. "I'll be back in time for breakfast, Martha."

"Dad, I can take care of that, if you like."

"I appreciate the offer, son, but I'd like to take care of this myself. Show your mother that I can still run this farm."

Once he was gone, Clark approached his mother who was in the kitchen."What was that about, Mom?"

She sighed. "Your father is still insisting on running this farm by himself. I know that we have farmhands to help out, but I'd just wish that he'd take it easy sometimes. His heart isn't what it used to be."

"Maybe I should come out on the weekends. To help Dad with the farm," he suggested, watching his mother crack eggs into a bowl.

Martha riveted her eyes on her only son. "Clark, as concerned as you are about your father, I don't think that's a good idea. Besides, I don't want you to worry about us. We'll be fine."

From the tone of her voice, Clark knew that it would be best to drop the subject.

"So, what did you and Lana do while we were away?"

Clark opened the fridge to pour himself a glass of orange juice before carefully choosing his words. "Not much. I went to Metropolis a few times to patrol and Lana went into town a couple of times. Other than that...we just talked and hung out."

"Out of curiosity, did Lana's fiancé call or anything?" Martha asked curiously, pouring the scrambled eggs into the frying pan.

At the mention of Lana's engagement to another man, Clark stiffened slightly. However, before he could answer, the phone let out a shrill ring.

"I'll get it," he muttered. He waited for a second ring before picking the receiver up. "Hello?"

"Clark? It's Pete. I was wondering if you could come down and help me with my vows."

"Your vows? As in wedding vows?" Clark glanced over at his mother who was now preparing pancake batter.

"What kind of other vow do you know?" Pete asked, chuckling over the line. "Look, I know that you were always good at the mushy, emotional stuff, but me? I can't write to save my life, man."

Clark grinned. "I'd be happy to help you out. How 'bout I come over after breakfast."

"That's cool with me. Thanks."

"What are best mans for?"

After chatting with Pete some more, he hung up, announcing to his mom that he was going over to Pete's once he was finished with breakfast.

"Well, it'll give me some time to catch up with Lana," Martha commented as Clark took a seat at the breakfast counter, sipping his juice. "Would you go wake her up? Tell her that breakfast is almost ready."

"Sure." He downed the rest of his juice and padded upstairs. When he peaked in through the door of his childhood room, he had to smile, seeing her spread out on the mattress, dead to the world.

"Lana?" He gently shook her awake.

She groaned and swatted his arm away. "I thought you said for me to get some sleep."

"Yeah, but that was before Mom asked me to tell you that breakfast will be ready soon." He took a seat down in the bed, shooting a glance at the shut door. Cautiously, he kissed her, their lips lingering for a good minute or two.

"Mmm...your breath stinks."

"Yours does, too," Clark reminded her, grinning at her. She was perfect, lying in bed covered only by a comforter. Her hair was all over her face, covering the eyes that could pierce through his soul, see through his every lie, and understand his joy and pain.

He sat there for a few moments, taking in her beauty, his eyes never once leaving hers. Finally, it was Lana who broke the moment, sitting up. "I'd better get dressed."

"Yeah. Me too. I have to help Dad with the chores and then go over to Pete's to help him with his wedding vows."

They dressed in silence. Occasionally, Lana would catch Clark's eyes on her, causing her to blush. His glances at her, the looks that he gave her...all indications that he loved her. Which made it even harder for Lana to continue to do this to him. Engaged to another man. She had to break it off.

Suddenly, she felt a pair of warm arms slip around her waist from behind. Clark pressed a kiss to her neck. "I'll see you, later. I think that I'm just going to grab some toast and head out."

She nodded and watched as he headed out of the room, leaving the door slightly open on his way out. Lana then finished getting dressed, choosing an off-white summer dress that showed off her curves quite nicely. She had to hand it to Martha Kent; she knew how to pick out simple, but elegant dresses.

The aroma of bacon hit her nostrils as soon as she ventured downstairs. She spotted Martha over at the stove, preparing breakfast.

"Hi, Martha," she greeted warmly, stepping out to take a plate of toast from the breakfast counter to deliver it to the dining table.

"Lana, dear. Did you sleep well?"

Although she knew that the question was innocent enough, she blushed, remembering Clark's hands all over her body the night before. "Best night's sleep that I've had in a while."

"Well, that's good," Martha replied absent-mindedly. She pointed with her spatula to the coffee maker. "Go ahead and pour yourself a cup of coffee. Breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes."

"Thanks, Martha." Lana helped herself to a coffee before setting the mug down. "Is there anything that I can do to help? Set the table?"

"That'd be wonderful, dear. Thank you," Martha said kindly, watching Lana as she hunted for plates, eating utensils, and such. "Could you go get Jonathon after you're done? He's out in the fields."

"Of course." Lana set up four place settings before realizing that Clark was probably over at Pete's, having finished his chores in record time. She picked up the intended place setting and brought it over to the counter.

"So, you and Clark have gotten close, haven't you?"

Lana nearly dropped the cream colored plate. She hastily placed it on the counter. "Umm...yeah. We've been talking...about stuff."

Martha stepped away from the stove once she turned down the heat a bit. She took a seat on one of the stools at the breakfast counter and Lana did the same.

"Have I told you about the first time that Clark saw you?"

Lana shook her head, wondering what brought this conversation on. Maybe Clark had said something to her... But she doubted it, knowing that Clark enjoyed his privacy as much as she did. Martha Kent always had the uncanny ability to see past blank expressions and well-thought-out lies.

"It was five months after the meteor shower that Clark and I finally went into town. Up until then, Jonathon usually did most of the grocery shopping because we were afraid that if Clark followed me to the store, he'd accidentally use his power. The only power he had then was super strength."

"Clark mentioned to me how you told him the first time he used his strength, it was on the tractor because his ball had rolled under there," Lana said conversationally.

Martha nodded. "Imagine a three year old being able to lift up a tractor that weighs God-knows-how-many-pounds. It was like something that you only see on TV, except that it was very real."

Lana laughed; wishing that she had been around the Kent farm when she was younger. Nell had always warned her to stay away from them, that they liked to keep to themselves, which wasn't an exact lie. But somehow, Lana knew that there was more to the story, since Nell hadn't quite gotten over the fact that Jonathon had chose Martha over her.

"Anyway, that day, Jonathon was in Grandville for the farmer's market and I was low on bread and milk. I decided to take my chances and drive into town. Clark was too young to understand that he couldn't very well use his power out in public, so I asked him to wait in the truck."

"I'm guessing that didn't sit too well with him?" Lana asked, imagining a three- year-old Clark sitting in the passenger seat of the truck with a pout on his adorable face.

Martha laughed, shaking her head. "When I came out fifteen minutes later, he was gone. I went back to the market, hoping that he had followed me in, but the clerk at the counter said that he hadn't. I was about to call Jonathon from a pay phone when I saw him in the window of the Nell's flower shop across the street."

"Nell never told me this story," Lana pointed out.

"I'm sure that she had her reasons, since Clark broke nearly three pots of ferns over at the bargain section."

Lana laughed, fiddling with the corner of a napkin that had been knocked out of the napkin holder.

"Right when I came in, Nell directed me to Clark. She had allowed him to stay with you, at the back of the store since he kept asking her about you."

Lana blushed, bowing her head. Clark had told her that he had been in love with her since a young age, but she had thought he'd been exaggerating.

"When I came to the back room, you and Clark were both sitting at a small tea table, pretending to sip tea. I remember staying at the doorway, watching you pour him more tea before Clark finally noticed me," Martha narrated, a far-off expression on her countenance.

"Did Clark say anything to me?" Lana asked curiously, balling up the napkin.

Martha shook her head. "You'll have to ask him about that. He never told me." She reached over and squeezed Lana's hand in a mother-daughter affectionate way before standing from her stool.

Lana watched as she returned to the stove, shutting it off and pouring sausages into a cream-colored plate. Martha Kent was probably more like a mother to her than her Aunt Nell was. Although she loved her aunt deeply, she knew that Nell would never truly understand the particular dilemma that she faced now...engaged to one man, in love with another.

Lana sighed, releasing the balled-up napkin from her right hand.

"Lana, would you let Jonathon know that breakfast is about ready?" Martha asked as she carried over the plate of sausages to the table.

"Of course." Before she could reach the door, though, the phone rang.

"We've been getting a lot of calls this morning," Martha observed, glancing over her shoulder at Lana. "Do you mind getting that?"

Lana shook her head and picked up the receiver, ignoring the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. "Hello?"

"Hello? Lana, is that you?"

* * *

"So, what seems to be the problem?" Clark asked as soon as he stepped through the threshold of the Ross family household where most of his siblings and their families were staying until the wedding. It was such a tight fit that Clark wondered how anyone got any sleep.

"What?" Pete inquired over the blaring of the television in the family room, the ruckus of his nieces and nephews, and the clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen.

"Never mind."

"What?"

Clark shook his head. He grabbed Pete's arm and dragged him out of the house. Once outside, his head began to clear of the noise. "I said what seems to be the problem with your wedding vows?"

"Uhh...hold on." Pete scrambled back into the house and a few minutes later, came out with a notepad and pen in his hand, not to mention bits of colorful play-duh on his head.

"You have some gunk on your head," Clark commented as Pete took a seat on the grass. Clark sat down next to him as well, helping him get rid of the play-duh.

"I swear that once Marie and I get married, we're going to wait at least ten years before having kids."

Clark laughed, shaking his head. "Pete, once you get married, babies and kids will be the only thing that Marie talks about."

"I doubt it. My baby niece vomited on her the other day. I don't think she was too fond of the idea after that."

Changing the subject back to the wedding vows, he asked, "So, what seems to be the problem with your vow?"

"I keep getting blocked, man. I know what I want to say...I just can't find the words," Pete collaborated, tapping the top of his pen on the notepad.

"Well, Pete, it's just best if you just pour everything out onto paper. Maria loves you, man. She doesn't care if you can barely write a couple of sentences." Clark slapped him on the back.

"How do you make it so easy?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and Lana. I mean, ever since we were little, you've been chasing after her. And look at you two now."

Clark shifted uncomfortably. "Lana and I are just...friends."

"You were always a terrible liar, Clark," Pete said with humor. "After ten years of being apart from her, she suddenly waltzes back into your life. You can't honestly expect me to believe that you two are just 'friends.' Besides, I've never seen you this happy since our senior year of high school."

Clark sighed. "Am I that transparent?"

"Transparent as a ghost."

"What am I going to do, Pete? She's getting married next month...to another guy," he said unhappily, head in his hands.

It was Pete's turn to pat him on the back. "Look, I'm not an expert on this stuff, but what you and Lana had back in school was real. I've never told you this, but I've always been a bit envious of you."

"Of me?" Clark repeated.

Pete nodded. "Remember when we were seven? We were out by Crater Lake, fooling around, pretending to be fishing with a couple of tree branches that we found and some yarn. That was the first time that you told me that you were in love with Lana."

"I remember that. You laughed at me for nearly five minutes. Said that we were too young to be falling for 'icky' girls."

"Yeah, well, I regret it now," Pete confessed, grinning. "Truth is, you knew who you were in love with at seven, and you went for it. Flash forward to now, and you're still at it."

Clark sighed. "Yeah. But right now, I'm not too convinced that I should keep going for it."

"Why?"

"Lana's engaged, Pete. And not to me. It's as simple as that."

"Lana went out with Whitney and that didn't stop you from trying to get closer to her."

"But that was different..."

Pete shook his head, confident in his belief. "No, it wasn't. Different guy, same story."

"Maybe it's just too late for us," Clark said miserably, pulling out blades of grass from the lawn.

"That's up to you, man. Do you _want_ it to be too late, or do you want to keep hanging in there?"

Clark took a moment to mull over everything that Pete just said. "And I thought I was the expert in this field."

"Hey, I learned from the best," Pete teased, slapping him on the back in a brotherly affectionate way.

In spite of everything, Clark knew that he was still madly in love with Lana. He wasn't sure that he had ever stopped, nor if he would. That belief, that notion...would have to be the driving force for his forthcoming actions.


	12. Indecision

"Hello? Lana, is that you?"

Lana felt faint, blooding pounding in her ears, the usual tell-tale sign of things spinning quickly out of control.

"Nell?" she breathed, blindly reaching for a chair behind her. She stumbled onto a stool at the breakfast counter, noticing that all activity in the kitchen had gone still.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Martha asked having noticed the pale expression on the younger woman's face. She placed the plate of sausages on the dining table.

Lana watched wearily as she took a seat across from her at the counter. Over the line, Nell repeatedly asking her if she was still there. Gingerly, Lana brought a hand up to her temple, rubbing it.

"Lana?" Are you still there?" Nell asked frantically.

"Nell...how did you find me?"

There was a slight pause before Nell finally spoke. "Jason called me a few days after you took off. He mentioned the reporter from the Daily Planet that happened to show up at that gala. I had a hunch that I'd find you over there after I asked Jason for the reporter's name."

"You've been in contact with Jason?" Lana asked incredulously, the strength in her voice returning.

"Well, he only is your fiancé," Nell said with a slight laugh that indicated that she wasn't as amused as she pretended to be. "Or do I have to remind you?"

Lana gritted her teeth, her exhaustion resolving into anger. "What are you implying, Nell?" Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Martha perk up, having been finally informed of who was on the other line. Although she wore a polite expression of confusion on her features, Lana could sense that she was just as curious as Nell about what was really going on between her and Clark. Although Lana would never admit it out loud, she'd be as curious as them if she were in their position.

"Lana, for heaven's sake. What were you thinking in going to the Kent Farm? They're good people...I don't think that this would sit well with them...you using them to hide from your fiancé."

"I'm not using them," Lana replied with a slight edge in her voice. She quickly glanced up at Martha, and then lowered her eyes. "They know exactly why I'm here...I've already told them about Jason."

"Oh, and do they know that you're having an affair with their son?"

"Don't," Lana began, her voice shaking, "accuse me of things when you have no idea how I feel. You have no right."

"I think that as your aunt, and the person who raised you, that I _do_ have the right," Nell said firmly, unfazed by her niece's attempts to scare her down. "Please, Lana. Come back to Metropolis so that you and Jason can work this out. Your wedding is next month...don't throw it all away in this one rash decision."

Instead of giving her aunt the satisfaction of knowing that she had succeeded into putting things into perspective, Lana fumed silently on the other line.

"Lana...I didn't call you to upset you," Nell said evenly, sensing her niece's distraught. "I just wanted to let you know that Jason is coming for you."

"W-what? When?" Lana demanded, drawing the attention of Martha.

"He's working on a case right now, so he can't get away until next week."

"Next week?" Lana repeated, the words sounding foreign to her.

"Yes, sometime next week..."

Nell was still trying to persuade her to come back to Metropolis, but Lana wasn't listening. Instead, she blurted out, "You told him didn't you?" She heard Nell sigh loudly, pausing before slowly, but deliberately giving her answer.

"You should have seen him...he was a mess. I wanted to tell him...but I didn't."

"Thank you, Nell," Lana whispered into the phone. Although Nell could be blinded by her own ambitions for her, Lana knew that in moments like these, her aunt really did care for her.

"That still doesn't make this right though, Lana. What you're doing with Jonathon and Martha Kent's son."

Lana closed her eyes briefly. "I know that, Nell. I just need some time to think things through..."

"I hope you make the right decision, Lana," Nell said softly, genuine concern in her voice.

"Me too." Lana waited for the soft click to know that Nell had hung up before hanging up herself. Not wanting to see the expression on Martha Kent's countenance, she closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to them.

After a few moments, Lana glanced up to see Martha with a pot of tea on the table.

"Jonathon used to always put on a pot of tea when I was tired or upset. It really helped cleared my head and calm my nerves." Martha offered a smile, pouring a cup of tea for Lana.

Lana smiled weakly, accepting the cup from her. Her hands were shaking, causing some of the tea to splash out of the cup. "Thanks, Martha...for everything. For letting me stay here and 'hide out', as Nell put it."

Martha readjusted herself in her seat before reaching for the younger woman's hand. She squeezed it tenderly, but firmly. "There's no need to thank me, sweetie. This is as much as your home as ours. You know that."

For some odd reason, Lana felt herself tearing up. "Everything's falling apart...I can't do this anymore."

Martha released her hand and strode over to the other side of the counter. She placed her arm around Lana's shoulders, rubbing them in a motherly way. "Yes you can...you're strong, Lana. You just have to believe that things will work out for the best."

"I'm trying to...but things are too complicated right now," Lana confessed, doing her best to compose herself.

"Love is complicated. But that doesn't mean that you should give up on it."

Lana wasn't quite sure if Martha had caught on to what was going on between her and Clark, or if she was simply referring to her and Jason. Either way, she was grateful for her advice. "Things with Jason are just...confusing. I love him, I really do, but...I'm not sure. It's not the same..."

"Postpone the wedding, then. You're still young...there's no need to rush into these things. Love can't be rushed, sweetie," Martha said.

"I know...I just...I feel like I messed things up so bad already." Lana fidgeted with her tea cup as Martha soothingly rubbed her back. "By coming here, I mean. Running away."

"Everyone has run away from their problems before. Clark did when he ran away to Metropolis."

Lana remembered that summer well. Everything she did...watching the sunset...or even wiping dishes at the Talon reminded her of Clark. There was just no escaping him. Just like now.

A lump grew in her throat as she thought about Jason in Metropolis, worried about her. The lump grew bigger when she thought of the kindness that Jonathon and Martha Kent had offered her, taking her into their home with no questions asked. And Clark...this wasn't fair to him either.

Overwhelmed with guilt, the tears came faster, heavier. "Oh, Martha...I'm so sorry... You don't know half of what I've done since I came here. I hurt so many people...including Clark."

Martha stroked her hair, comforting her as best as any mother could. "Lana, I'm going to be honest here, but I had my suspicions about what was really going on between you and Clark. I'm not saying that I approve of it...but just know that I want the best for both of you."

Lana nodded, drying her tears with a napkin offered by Martha. "Martha? Can you please not tell Jonathon about this...I don't think that he would be happy with this."

"Of course. My lips are sealed."

"Thank you."

The two women sat there in silence, united by a secret. Once Lana had composed herself, Martha suggested for her to head upstairs.

"I'll keep a plate warm for you. If Jonathon asks, I'll just tell him that you're not feeling well, which is technically the truth."

Lana managed a small smile and stood up, her legs wobbly. As she climbed the stairs, she contemplated the decision that she knew that she had to make.

* * *

The moment Clark stepped into the house; he noticed that something was up. Call it his usual hunch, or alien intuition, but something was up.

"Mom?" he called, padding his way to the kitchen where he found his mother in the process of peeling apple skins for her pie.

"Hi, honey. Did everything go okay with Pete?" Martha asked, smiling at her son.

"Yeah. He just needed someone to remind him that Marie loves him, whether or not he can string words together." Clark yanked the fridge open and pushed aside leftovers and the jug of orange juice for the milk carton.

"He's already getting pre-wedding jitters?" Clark heard his mom ask as he proceeded to chug down the milk right from the carton.

"Clark, glass! You're a grown man for heaven's sake."

He grinned as he reached for a cup. "Sorry...it just tastes better that way." He poured himself a good amount of the milk before sticking the carton back into the fridge. While he chugged it down, he noticed that a plate of breakfast foods was sitting on the stove, neatly wrapped in aluminum foil.

"Is that for me?"

Martha glanced up from the apple that she was peeling. "No. For Lana."

Clark's eyebrows knitted together. "Didn't she eat breakfast with you and Dad?"

"She wasn't feeling too well."

A curt answer, Clark thought. Hmm... "Is she okay?"

"Just tired. I suggested that she go back to bed." Martha reached down to pull out her cutting board from the cupboard.

"Where's Dad?" Clark asked casually, walking over to the sink. He rinsed it before setting it on the dish rack.

"Out at the hardware store getting some parts for the tractor. He needs you to help him lift it when he gets back."

He nodded, watching his mother begin slicing up the apples. "I'm thinking of heading out to Metropolis after I help Dad. I'll be back for dinner and that pie."

Martha laughed, remembering the days when he used to sit by the oven, waiting to be the first one to sample her baking. "I'll be sure to save some pie for you in case you don't come back in time."

"Thanks, Mom." He leaned against the counter, watching her pull out other ingredients to make the crust. His eyes wandered over to the dining table where a pot of tea was set in the center along with a half empty cup.

"Were you drinking tea this morning, Mom?"

"No. Lana was." Martha glanced up at her son, noticing the wheels turning in his head. "When did you become so keen?"

"Well, you normally don't drink tea unless you're upset or cold." Clark turned his head, careful to watch his mother's expression.

Martha sighed, putting down her knife. "Clark, Nell Potter called this morning."

Clark felt himself tense up. "W-what? Why?"

"You'll have to ask Lana that. I didn't want to pry...but she seemed pretty upset."

Clark's good mood faltered. "Do you think that I can go up there...to check on her?" He was careful to word his question in a way that seemed as if he cared for Lana only as a friend, and not as the likely subject of Lana's and Nell's conversation.

"Go ahead," Martha said gently. "Tell her that I have saved some food down here for her if she's hungry. I'm making sandwiches and soup for lunch, so let her know that lunch will be ready in an hour as well."

Clark nodded, not quite sure that he got all of that. But that was the least of his worries as he headed upstairs to his boyhood room.

He knocked lightly on the door. When he didn't a response, he pushed it open, slipping in. Inside, the flannel curtains were drawn closed, the light from outside trying its best to shine through the fabrics.

Lana, he assumed was the lump on the bed. She had pulled the covers over her head. He approached the bed cautiously. "Lana?" He gingerly took a seat on the bed.

There was a slight groan before Lana appeared, sitting up. Clark noticed the redness around the rim of her eyes and the bags underneath them.

"Mom told me what happened. The phone call from Nell." Clark reached for her hand and tenderly brushed the hair away from her face.

Lana sighed, and rubbed her eyes. "Clark...Nell called to tell me that Jason is coming next week...to Smallville."

Clark swallowed hard. "How did he find out that you're here? Did Nell tell him?"

She shook her head. "No...Jason mentioned you to Nell and she put the pieces together... I don't know how Jason could've found out where I was...I mean, even if he remembered you from the party, I never mentioned you to him..."

Clark pulled her closer to him, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. They sat there in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

"Clark, what am I going to do?" Lana whispered into his shoulder.

"I don't know," he replied truthfully. "Maybe..." he began, fighting the lump that had formed in this throat, "we should just let things happen..."

Lana lifted her head off his shoulder, puzzled. "Are you saying that we should just forget everything that's happened since we've been here?"

"No, I mean..." Clark paused, gazing into her eyes. They were pleading for him to make a decision for her...but he couldn't. She had to make that decision by herself. "Let's not worry about it...if things happen, then they happen."

Lana glanced down at the plaid comforter. For some odd reason, she felt as if she had lost him. "Yeah...I guess." She was frowning now, tears whelming up in her eyes.

Clark looked away, knowing that he was being a coward. Did she want him to fight for her? He wasn't sure.

"Clark...I've hurt so many people by being here...Jason...and even..." Clark's name was at the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't bring herself to say it. Maybe she just wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her by his comment before.

"Yeah." He pulled away slightly. "Listen, I'm going to head to Metropolis for a while. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Oh, okay." Lana released him and closed her eyes as he planted a kiss on her forehead. She watched as he padded toward the door. With one final glance at her, he was gone.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the late update. Thanks for reading. Don't forget to leave a review! 


	13. Time

"...I don't think that there's anyone who deserves this more than you, man. To Pete and Marie. May the future bring you eternal happiness," Clark said to the attentive gathering that had turned up for Pete and Marie's wedding.

The crowd murmured their toasts and took a sip of champagne as Clark received a hug from the newly wedded groom and a kiss on the cheek from the bride. Once the cheering and clapping died down, he resumed his seat next to his dad who gave him a proud pat on the back.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look, Mom?" Clark said across the round table to his mother who was dressed in a creamy white dress suit. Instead of having the traditional head table of the bride and groom's party, there were smaller, more intimate tables. Pete and Marie had their own table in the center, which they shared with both sets of parents. Clark and his parents occupied the table left to the bride and groom's while the Ross siblings were scattered around the vast tent that had been rented for the reception.

"Yes, but it doesn't hurt to remind me from time to time." Martha smiled at her son.

"Hey, son, I thought I told you to stop stealing my line," Jonathon said playfully.

Clark chuckled and watched as his parents chatted about the decorations and other wedding-related subjects. He noticed that his dad had his hand placed on his mother's, both content.

He scanned the room, looking for Lana's face. She hadn't been able to get a seat at their table because they were sharing it with Pete's youngest sister, Julie. She hadn't brought a date to the wedding, and the Rosses didn't want to embarrass her, so Marie penciled her into the seating chart at the last minute, leaving Lana to sit with Pete's obnoxious kid nieces and nephews.

Apparently, at the moment, Lana was doing some babysitting as Pete's eldest sister had made her way up to the head table to chat with the groom and bride for a bit. Clark could see Lana trying her best to coax Thomas, a very curious seven-year-old, to go back to the coloring book that had been given to him to keep him busy.

Clark watched her for a moment, noticing the breeze that played against her raven hair. His heart lurched when she looked up, right at him, as if sensing his gaze. Her face broke into a small smile, her adorable dimples showing.

Her smile soon turned to a devilish one and Clark found himself wondering what she was planning. Her eyes darted to the exit of the tent before coming back to him. Suddenly, she stood from the table and wandered outside of the tent, disappearing from view. The playful grin on her features told him to follow her.

"Mom? Dad? I'm just going to head into the house and check on the catering company," Clark said quickly, invading their conversation.

At this, Martha sighed. "Mrs. Ross told me that they were supposed to be here at 7:30...and it's nearly eight o'clock. If they don't hurry, we're going to be eating out here with the bugs."

Clark nodded, assuring her that he would give them a call. He sped walk out of the tent. The second that he escaped out into the open of the night, there was a yank on his left arm, catching him off guard.

"Lana, someone could catch us!" he hissed as she pressed her lips to his, her hands playing with the curls at the base of his neck.

She giggled and pulled him away from the tent. "I know...it's just...I can't seem to get enough of you."

He grinned, knowing exactly how she felt. Over the course of the past week, they had spent every minute together, desperately seeking refuge in the moments where it was only them, hoping that these moments would freeze, and allow them to spend forever in each other's arms, away from the impending threat of Jason.

But as Monday turned into Tuesday, and Tuesday flew to Saturday, there was still no sign of Jason, as Nell had warned Lana earlier. Maybe Jason had given up. Or maybe fate had finally given them a break.

And maybe pigs would start to fly as well.

"Hey...you okay? You looked like you swallowed a bug or something," Lana commented, taking his hand and leading him further away from the tent.

"I've actually swallowed a few bugs before," Clark said. He glanced behind them to check if anyone had noticed that they had disappeared. He doubted anyone would, seeing that Pete and Marie were rightfully in the center of attention.

"Eww."

Clark caught Lana's expression. "When I'm flying as Superman...sometimes I fly really fast and the poor bugs get trapped in my teeth."

She made a face as they turned a corner, the yellow farmhouse coming into view. Both the ceremony and reception had been held at the Kent Farm, seeing that Pete and Marie couldn't very well afford a reception hall in Metropolis. "I did not need to know that, Clark."

He shrugged. "Hey, you're the one who brought it up."

They continued their stroll in comfortable silence, the moonlight illuminating the familiar path to the barn. More than once, Clark sneaked glances at Lana, not quite believing how beautiful she looked. Her hair was in a loose bun, with wisps of raven hair outlining her face. She wore a hint of makeup, but other than that, it was all natural beauty. Her pale pink dress reminded him of another wedding, another life where he was afraid of the future.

Clark allowed Lana to climb the stairs up to the loft first, following after her quietly. Once they reached the top, Lana sat him down on the couch and instructed him to close his eyes while she hunted for his birthday present.

"I thought that you already gave it to me the yesterday," he said, eyes closed. He was tempted to use his x-ray vision, but for the sake of being surprised, he didn't.

"That was just the teaser," she replied. The day before, the two of them had snuck up to the loft to make love while Martha and the Mrs. Ross were busy getting everything set up for the wedding. There was a thrill to making love in the open...any moment, someone could walk right up those stairs and catch them, but neither Clark nor Lana cared.

"Okay. Open your eyes."

He did.

"I know that it isn't much...but I liked the idea of it..."

He stood up and made his way over to her. "Lana, it's amazing." He held out his hand for it and she carefully handed it over.

Clark traced the outline of the sketch. A lot of artists had been trying their luck to capturing the agony and despair that Superman carried, along with the ideals of truth and justice. But Lana...she hit the head on the nail just right. Staring back at him, in black and white, was him. Not Superman, but Clark Kent donning tights and a cape.

"Thank you."

She smiled; it was obvious that he liked it. "Your welcome." She inched closer to him and drew him in a warm hug. "Happy twenty-eighth birthday, Clark."

"Best one yet." He planted a kiss on her forehead.

"This week has gone by too fast," Lana confessed against his crisp white shirt.

"It has, hasn't it?"

She nodded. "I'm scared."

There was no need to ask her why. "So am I."

They held each other for a while, savoring the moment. Finally, Clark pulled away gently. "C'mon...we should be heading back." He clasped her hand in his as they descended the stairs.

Outside, there was a white van parked haphazard near the tent. There were women and men dressed in white shirts and black pants moving in and out of the van, carrying trays with small delectable treats. From the tent, the local band that Marie had found was playing some wedding tunes, the music drifting into the night sky.

"You owe me a dance," Lana said as they passed the yellow farm house.

"I do?"

"Yea--_oh my God_." She stopped abruptly, her head turned toward the driveway.

Clark turned in that direction as well. Although the figure was masked in the darkness of the night, he recognized him immediately.

"J-Jason?" Lana stammered.

The hours, minutes, seconds on the clock, were gone. There was nothing left. Time had never been on their side.

And in that second, that second which was the turning point for the both of them, Lana let Clark's hand go.


	14. A New Beginning

Clark felt as if his heart had been ripped out, the flame that was only ignited last week extinguished. The slight breeze froze; the trees and their branches stopped swaying. The only two things that seemed to move was the woman beside him and man before her.

"Lana..." Jason said. "Clark."

Clark wrenched his eyes away from Lana, not thinking coherently. He opened his mouth, but there were no words. He cleared his throat. "Lana..."

He didn't know why it came out more as a whimper rather than a name, but he neither cared nor noticed. He couldn't lose her now...not now.

A minute passed. An hour. A day. A week. A month. A year. A lifetime.

Time began moving again. Lana exhaled and closed her eyes, the beating of her heart terrifying her and comforting her at the same time. She looked straight ahead at Jason, the features on her face set in stone.

She wasn't surprised when she turned to Clark and found him gazing at her intently. She opened her mouth, the words coming out almost robotically. "Clark, can you give us a few minutes?"

Clark wasn't sure about what he was expecting her to say. Yet, he felt slightly cold as he nodded his head numbly and watched her go.

He watched her get into the passenger seat of the Escalade. Watched as Jason shut the car door and start the engine. The hums of the engine followed them as they turned out of the driveway and away from him.

He wanted to scream, shout, do anything but stand there, a distant figure beneath the sea of night stars. Instead, he walked numbly to the porch steps of the yellow farm house and waited.

* * *

The engine hummed to a stop. Above them sat the 'Welcome to Smallville' sign, the same sign that Lana had passed on her way into the town with Clark.

Lana watched as Jason unbuckled his belt and removed his hands from the steering wheel. After a slight pause, he finally turned to her.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on or do I have to ask?"

She couldn't bring herself to look at him. Instead, she fiddled with her engagement ring. In the moonlight pouring in from the open car window illuminated the diamond, making it seem bigger and more significant.

"Jason...when I introduced Clark as an old classmate at that gala...I wasn't lying," she confessed quietly, her voice carrying out of the window and fading into the vast cornfields. "Clark and I have known each other all our lives...we went to kindergarten together, elementary school...it wasn't until high school that we really started talking."

"Let me guess. This is the part where you tell me that you two used to date," Jason spoke up, his voice sadistic.

"Jason..." Lana sighed, still refusing to look at him. "I'm sorry. I really am."

"You know what? It's okay."

Lana, surprised, turned to him. "It is?"

Jason nodded and reached for her clammy hands. "Lana, I still love you," he said seriously. "You can call me insane...mental...crazy. It's just...you mean the world to me, Lana. I have my suspicions about what went on while you were here, but I'm not going to ask."

"Jason─"

"Lana, it's okay." He released her hands and brought his hands to cup her face on either side. "I'm willing to put this behind me...I just... I want you to marry me, Lana. I still want to get married next month. How 'bout it? Let's just leave right now...forget about this whole thing."

"Jason, I know you...you wouldn't let this go just like that," Lana said softly.

He shook his head firmly. "You're wrong, Lana. I _would_. Because I love you...you're the only person who can make me feel this way. I can't bear to lose you."

"Oh, Jason...I can't. I'm so sorry...but I can't." Lana pulled off her engagement ring and handed it to him.

His face fell. "You're in love with him, aren't you?" he asked quietly.

"Jason, I care about you...I really do. But it's not the same. Please understand," Lana whispered, tears of guilt whelming in her eyes. "You deserve someone else who can make you happy."

"You do make me happy," he pleaded.

Lana placed hand to his cheek in a friendly way. She pulled away quickly, her hand wet. She swallowed the lump in her throat reluctantly. "Jason, I'm sure that one day, you'll find what you're looking for. But believe me, I'm not that person."

Not another word was uttered between the two as the engine hummed to life. Despite the situation, Lana smiled weakly to herself.. The weight on her finger was gone and so was the one on her chest.

* * *

Clark watched with a neutral expression as the Escalade pulled up into the driveway. He watched as Lana got out of the passenger's seat and gave Jason a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. Finally, the Escalade rolled away from the driveway with Jason in there.

He forced himself to stay seated on the porch as wait as she made her way over to him. Just when Lana was close enough for him to make out her face, she held up her left hand.

Clark squinted, unsure of what he was supposed to see. His eyes grew wide with recognition as noticed that the usual spark on her finger was gone.

He swallowed hard and stood, staring into her eyes that were shining. A few tentative steps and he was in front of her. No words were need as they embraced, Clark holding on to Lana for dear life.

"I'm sorry," Lana breathed into his chest, her eyes closed tightly.

"Why?"

"For doubting us..." She pulled back and caressed the side of Clark's cheek. "I..."

"Shh," he hushed gently, brushing her lips with his thumb. "I love you Lana, you know that right?"

She smiled, the glow of the moonlight illuminating her features. "And I love you, too."

Clark sealed her lips with a kiss, pouring all of his love for her into this kiss, knowing that their love would never waver again.


	15. Epilogue

**A Year Later**

Specks of red, orange, and gold splashed onto the white canvas sitting beside the open window that held the view of Metropolis and its mile-high skyscrapers and balls of fire that had been popping up over the city for the past hour. The last rays of sunshine were fading and a slight breeze made its way into the nearly empty apartment, but Lana Lang resisted the urge to shut the window.

After daubing some pink onto the canvas, Lana placed her paint brush down, and stood up, stretching her legs. She then made her way to the freshly coated kitchen and made a pot of tea, pouring the steaming liquid into two cups.

A few sips later, Lana wandered back to the bedroom, careful to avoid the boxes that were still lying around from their recent move. As she turned the corner into the room, she smiled as she spotted a red cape and blue tights fitted around the contours of her husband's muscular frame.

"Sorry I'm late..." Clark Kent apologized quickly once he saw her. "I got sort of tied up at the police station...the chief wanted me to give them a description of some new robber in town...wondered if I had seen him..."

Lana smiled, ignoring his rambling as he changed out of his costume and into sweatpants and a red tee. Finally, when he was done, he looked at her expectantly.

"Hi."

"Hey," he replied uncertainly. After a moment, they burst out laughing and Lana ran up to him to embrace him.

"You still need to unpack those boxes over there," she reminded him as he bent down to kiss her.

"Yeah, I will tomorrow morning. I'm taking the day off tomorrow."

"You are?" Lana asked, mildly surprised.

"Yeah, I asked Perry for a couple of days off so that we could get settled into our new home," Clark explained, arms around her petite waist.

They swayed back and forth for a bit before Clark lifted a hand to wipe away a smudge of pink on her nose. His eyes drifted over to the wooden box carved with two entwined swans on its front that sat on the nightstand beside the bed. Slowly, his eyes found hers and they smiled, both understanding what was going on through the other's heads.

"So, did your predictions ever come true?"

Lana crinkled her nose, a smile playing on her lips. "Yeah...yeah, they did."

The End

_This fic has come to an end! Thanks to everyone who have followed this fic and gave feedback! I appreciate it._


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